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From the collection of the 




o Prejinger 

v Jjibrary 


San Francisco, California 

1845 1847 1853 







Ullustratefc Hmerican /IDontblp 

Volume XXIV: April, 1906- -September, 1906 





Billy Stevens' Conversion L. H. Hammond 276 

Captain Emery's Revenge Ernest McGaffey 1 70 

Demon of Decay, The Edwin Ferguson 583 

Finish, The May Stranathan 613 

First Taming, The Stanley Waterloo. . . : 398 

Girl at The Gate, The L. M. Montgomeiy 539 

His Beautiful Mother Caroline Brett MacLean 359 

How the Siege Was Raised F. A. Cormick 511 

In the Private Ward Osceola Madden 469 

Justification of Robert, The Vena Dunlap Bonney 570 

K. K. K., The. A Serial Novel C.W.Tyler 86,194,305,409,517,615 

Lawyer and the Man, The Kalvin Johnson 166 

Member of Company B, A Ellmore Elliott Peake 156 

Pink Countess, The Charles Warren Stoddard 136 

Pirate, Yet a Brother. A , H.C.Gauss 45 

Sag to Leeward, A William Forster Brown 273 

Snagged Lewis G. Miller 403 

Tact Mary E. Fitzgerald 34 

Triumph of a Failure, The Florence Martin Eastlande 589 

Uncle Dave, or A Tale of The Catfish W. G. Parish, Jr 474 

Uncle Rube Miriam Sheffey 265 

Wages Rhoda Cameron 56 

Winner, The Olh e A. Smith 382 

Wisdom of Hagar, The Emily Ruth Calvin 483 

With Constancy Unfailing Charles Lewis Fitch 375 

Wrath of Miss Bruker, The Clarissa Dixon 575 


After All The Great Horace Traubel 291 

Alone in the Woods Oscar Johnson 533 

Attainment Jessie M. Whittaker 256 

Ballade of Prairie Grass A. A. B. Cavaness 272 

Ballade of the Third Revolution Frank Putnam 327 

Ballade of Christ on Calvary Ernest McGaffey 336 

Ballade ,of Time Ernest McGaffey 510 

Boo- Jab, The Edmund Vance Cooke 516 

Brother Edmund Vance Cooke. 395 

Circumstantial Evidence Ellis Dore Kinsman 538 

Country Road, A Jasper Barrett Cowdin 515 

Ditch, The Cora A. Matson-Dolson 1 73 

For Molly Ernest McGaffey 374 

Friendship Eli Barber 633 

Great Grandma's Wedding Catherine Jewett '. 43 

Home Again '. . Cora A. Matson-Dolson 534 

In Memoriam: Frederic Lawrence Knowles Aloysius Coll 32 

Justice Ernest McGaffey 60 

Knots of Blue and Gray, The May Elliott Hutson 164 

Laughter and Tears Eugene C. Dolson 1 73 

Liberty Edgar Lee Masters 493 

Looking for Work H. C. Gauss 42 


Lyrics Charles Warren Stoddard 181 

May in Iowa Oscar Johnson 214 

May Madrigal Louise Lewin Matthews 193 

One Singer Eugene C. Dolson 143 

Quarrel ' Curtis Hidden Page . . ., 291 

Rose, The Alex Derby 104 

Soft as an Angel's Whisper Edward Wilbur Mason 408 

Soul of the Singer J. A. Edgerton 569 

These, Our Great Frank Putnam 155 

When the Year Is at Noon May Ellis Nichols 408 

Wyoming Prairies Harriet Whitney Durbin 272 


A Day with Marquis Ito Yone Noguchi 51 

Arming "The Man of Destiny" (U. S. Grant) .. J. A. Dobson 50 

"Fighting Joe" Wheeler Wightman Fletcher Melton 61 

Haydon Jones, Newspaper Artist Ethel Armes 144 

Henrik Ibsen 386 

Japan's Modern Novelists. Yone Noguchi 505 

Joaquin Miller at The Heights Charles Warren Stoddard 19 

Mexico's War Minister Greets Northern Neighbors General Bernardo Reyes 131 

Nast's Historical Paintings Leigh Leslie 595 

Passing of Jules Verne Sarah D. Hobart 44 

Passing of Prentice Mulford Charles Warren Stoddard 563 

Six Great Editorial Writers Frank Putnam 607 

Whitman and Traubel Frank Putnam 396 


Adventures of a Special Correspondent Gilson Willetts 72, 182, 292 

An Anglo-Saxon Rexolution W. D. P. Bliss 215 

Anecdotes Mary Gregory Hume 84 

An Open Letter Frank Putnam 33 

Automobile in 1834 John F. Lacey 102 

Commodity Without a Measure, A Egbert T. Bush 541 

Editors at Indianapolis Joe Mitchell Chappie 634 

Fin de Siecle Friar, A Charles Warren Stoddard 257 

Gathering of Christian Scientists, A Alfred Farlow 499 

Gotham in Golden Chains John Coulter 37 

Government by Injunction John McGovern 285 

In the Teeth of a Temblor Charles Warren Stoddard 352 

Loss and Gain in San Francisco Frank Putnam 303 

Modern Monte Cristo, A Charles Warren Stoddard 463 

Open-Air Photography Olive Shippen Berry 387 

Portugal's Gigantic Daughter Ethel Armes 248 

Ruins of Stanford, The Myrtle Garrison 238 

San Francisco Fallen William Marion Reedy 342 

Uncle Sam's Tax-Payers David A. Gates 365 


Wanted: Cities With a Sane Ideal . . Charles Ferguson 174 

Women in Secret Orders Walter Allen Rice 580 

World Corporation (unlimited) King C. Gillette 433 

Affairs at Washington Joe Mitchell Chappie 3, 1 1 1, 223 

339, 447, 547 

Home, The 105, 218, 322 

424, 534, 637 


Let's Talk It Over Publisher 

Note and Comment Frank Putnam in, 223, 327 

Contributed 430, 541 


Photograph copyright 1906 by E. S. Curtia 



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APRIL, 1906 



Mitckell Ckcippl 

EVERY time I go to Washington I 
L am impressed with the idea that 
more ought to be done towards national- 
izing our capital. In the developing of 
a new country there is likely to be 
a scattering of effort which if centralized 
might make any one place a magnificent 
center and serve as an inspiration and 
education, reflect- 
ing the glories of . 

the nation. As 
Paris is indicative 
of the brilliant days 
of France, Berlin 
tells the glories of 
the history of Ger- 
many, and London 
speaks of Eng- 
land's memorable 
past, so might the 
city of Washington 
tell the story of the 
most remarkable 
nation in the 
world, a composite 
of almost every 
race under the sun. 
To a large extent 
free from the com- 
mercial and indus- 
trial trend of many 
of our large cities, 
Washington could 
be made pre-emi- 



Photograph by Prince, Washington 

nently the national city. There is 
no other city in America on which 
the interest of the entire nation 
is so steadily and continuously fixed 
each year, for every district and every 
part of the country is represented in the 
congress. Affairs of New York may 
lose their charm except to those immedi- 
ately concerned 
_^ in commercial and 
industrial enter- 
prises ; doings in 
Chicago may have 
only a limited hori- 
zon ; Boston, even 
sedate and stately 
Boston, has its lim- 
itations, but Wash- 
ington never fails 
to delight the visi- 
tor. It must main- 
tain its interest for 
the American citi- 
zen, while the for- 
eign voter is ac- 
counted a unit in 
the construction of 
the Union. Who 
can fail to admire 
such institutions as 
the congressional 
library, which I vis- 
ited recently with 
a young friend 




Photograph by Collyer, Waterbury 

from Germany, Mr. Stuttgart, and was 
much pleased to hear his gratifying com- 
ments on American patriotism as exhi- 
bited in this magnificent structure. 

Then there are the zoological gardens, 
which in the early Spring and Summer 
are a rendezvous for throngs of visitors 
from all parts of the world. The collec- 
tion in this garden has been contributed 
by many private citizens but the perma- 

Photograph by Bushnell, San Francisco 

Photograph copyright 1904 by Purdy, Boston 

nent interest of the nation could make 
it the great zoological center of the world, 
because once the national interest was 
thoroughly awakened, objects of interest 
would be contributed from all over the 
world, wherever Americans are to be 
found. This garden ought to be a "life 
class" of world-wide scope for students 
of zoology and it may become so 
when we realize the importance of 
building up our nation at all points. 


I must confess I spent one of the most 
interesting afternoons of my life looking 
into the great cages where the heron, the 
pelican, the crane and other water fowl 
mingle in social life, and gazing at the 
eagles, those birds of national signifi- 
cance. I was astonished at the gather- 
ing of people here. Every class of so- 
ciety seemed to be represented, from the 
distinguished William E. Curtis, with 

Photograph copyright 1006 by Clinedinst 

his silk hat and cane, to the youngest 
member of the emigrant family "just 
come over." They were all looking at 
the animals. No matter how old we 
grow there is always a fascination in 
looking upon wild animals; possibly 
they appeal to the old, nomadic instinct, 
still alive in many of us. We never out- 
grow our interest in the free, wild life. 

A new stone building is being con- 
structed which is decorated with red 

Photograph by OK V. Buck, Washington 

Photograph by Q-. V. Buck, Washington 



tiled roof and statues of various animals. 
These figures give it a somewhat gro- 
tesque appearance, but indicate its pur- 
pose. There is a certain octagonal build- 
ing which spectators did not seem quite 
so anxious to visit. They would go to 
the door, and fall back as though shot. 
Some ventured boldly in, though usually 
with handkerchief held before the face. 
I saw these movements from a distance, 
and made up my mind to essay an en- 
trance myself; one whiff was enough 
a powerful odor of something like burnt 
feathers met me. It was a whole con- 
gregation of skunks. A few braver visi- 
tors went in and studied the animals. 
Passing on, we watched the monkey 
buzzards hanging from the dead tree- 
tops. I was interested to see papas and 
mamas, with their families of babies, our 
distinguished ancestors. There was a 
collection of bears which suggested the 
presidential trip through the West and 



attracted young boys attired in cowboy 
suits and sombreros, evidently holding 
imaginary guns and slinging shots red 
hot in imaginary bear hunts. On the 
greensward were thousands of people 
out for a merry holiday. We lingered 
about until sunset and then the gates 
were closed. 

Another interesting feature of the capi- 
tal is the Smithsonian Institution, which 
is growing in importance year by year. 
Connected with this institution are men 
whose lives are devoted to the work in 
which they are engaged, and the govern- 
ment receives, for a small salary, the 
services of hundreds and thousands of 
men who could not be secured in busi- 
ness or commercial life for twice the 
amount of money. 

Then there is the National Museum, 
which could soon be made a seat of 
world-wide interest. The art galleries 
in Washington represent the art progress 


of the whole country. Although "Boss" 
Sheppard went out under a cloud of 
exposure, yet who does not bless his 
name for what he has constructed? 

Let us create a general interest in 
making Washington the glory of the 
world, because there is not a man, 
woman or child who has not an equal 
interest in all those stately white build- 
ings at the capital, which belong as much 
to them as they do to the men who reside 
in or use them. Every time I go to the 
White House, I feel I have just as much 
ownership in that as in my little apart- 
ment in Boston. 

All these improvements in Washing- 
ton will be accomplished when the 
spirit is awakened; all that is needed 
is the arousing of public opinion on 
the subject. Then some genius will 
come along who will see that Washing- 
ton is just the place to build up into 
a picturesque whole. He will grasp the 

beauty of the stately buildings and will 
bring everything into symmetry with 
what has been already done, making this 
city truly the capital of the nation, and 
perhaps of the world. 

EVERY day you find in the capitol 
the steady and ceaseless throng of 
visitors, leaning upon the rails on the 
stairway, looking upon the paintings 
which so vividly portray stirring scenes 
of national history. Now the space in 
the Brumidi frieze in the capitol, which 
has remained incomplete on account of 
the death of the artist, is to be filled. 
The unfinished work was always the text 
for a long paragraph in the lecture of the 
capitol guide. The frieze is seventy-five 
feet from the floor and runs about the 
base of the dome. The completed part 
depicts historic scenes of the new world 
from the time of Columbus to the Civil 
war. With upward-craned necks visitors 




Photograph by Clinedinst 

never fail to discover the missing part 
of this decoration, entirely encircling the 
dome with the exception of fifty feet, left 
incomplete by Brumidi, who fell from 
the scaffolding in 1880 and hung in a 
perilous position above the marble floor 
until rescued. The strain and shock 
resulted in his death shortly after the 

Fillippo Costagan continued the work 
iuntil 1889, when vigorous opposition 
; arose against having the scenes of the 
Civil war depicted in Ihis freize. This 
was the chief reason for its being left 
unfinished. Now it is suggested that 
scenes shall be taken from the Spanish- 
American war, with a suggestion of -the 
Philippines, Porto Rico and the Panama 
anal, leaving the fratricidal war to be 


Photograph by Clinedinst 

chronicled only on the yellow pages of 
history, with all bitter memories elimi- 
nated from the hearts of the people,-^ 
a completed arc symbolic of the unity of 
the nation. 



I MET J. Adam Bede in one of the 
committee rooms and he insisted that 
the only safe way to prepare a speech 
nowaday is to lure fellow members; 
into a committee room and have them, 
fix the speech up together, still * 
his own talks have in them the inimi- 
table Adam. It is said that the 
.congressional -speech of today is 
something of a canned product, kept 
"until wanted" within the walls of the 
committee room and exploited when 
desired on the floor of ,the house. 


Representative Bede enjoys the repu- 
tation of being the wag of the house; he 
always has a cheerful way of looking at 
all questions. When he is seen to rise 
in his seat the steadiest member of the 
house immediately prepares for a 
good, hearty laugh. But J. Adam 
Bede is more than a wag he is a 
man who is very close to his constit- 
uents and one who is beloved for 
hrs own genial, good - natured self. 


Photograph by Clinedinst 

UOW many of you gentlemen who read 
this have ever sought appointment as 
United States consul in a foreign land? 
Please hold up your hands. Ah, several 
hundred. Now, how many of you have 
sometimes thought without trying to 
put the thought into action that you 
would like to hold one of those desirable 

Photograph by Clinedinet 

posts, with their certain income and their 
opportunities for learning the ways of 

Photograph by Parker, Washington 






other peoples? Gracious, almost half of 
you ! Well, I suspected as much as that. 

Photograph by Bell's, Washington 

Then you'll be interested to know what 
has been done in the senate by way of 
reorganizing our consular service. The 
whole system has been put on a salary 
basis, graded, and all fees are to be 
turned over to the government if the 
Lodge bill becomes a law. Under the 
proposed new law, if you get one of 
Uncle Sam's consular posts, you needn't 
do any guessing about how much the 
place will pay. 

The consul-generals are graded in 
seven classes, as follows: 

Class i, $12,000 London, Paris. 

Class 2, $8,000 Berlin, Havana, 
Hong Kong, Hamburg, Rio de Ja- 
neiro, Shanghai. 

Class 3, $6,000 Calcutta, Cape 
Town, Constantinople, Mexico City, 
Montreal, Ottawa, Vienna, Yoko- 

Class 4, $5,500 Barcelona, Brus- 
sells, Canton, Frankfort, Melbourne, 
Panama, St. Petersburg, Seoul, 

Class 5, $4,500 Auckland, Beirut, 
Buenos Ayres, Callao, Chefoo, 


1 1 

Photograph by Bell's, Washington 


Photograph by Bell's, Washington 

Guayaquil, Halifax, Hankow, Mouk- 
den, New Chwang, Rome, Rotter- 
dam, St. Gall, Singapore. 

Class 6, $3,500 Bogota, Budapest, 
Guatemala, San Salvador, Stockholm, 
Teheran, Tangier, Lisbon. 

Class 7, $3,000 Christiana, Co- 
penhagen, Athens. 

This will be pretty rough on the gen- 
tlemen at London and Paris, whose in- 
come, mainly from fees, has for a good 
many years run up into the neighbor- 
hood of $20,000 a year. Your Uncle Sam 
will probably have no great difficulty in 
finding good men to take the $12,000, 

The plain consuls are graded into ten 
classes; here is the list: 

Class i, $8,000 Liverpool. 
Class 2, $6,000 Manchester. 

Class 3, $5,500 Antwerp, Marseil- 

Class 4, $5,000 Bremen, Dawson, 
Belfast, Havre, Kobe, Lorenzo Mar- 
quez, Lyons, Pretoria. 

Class 5, $4,500 Amoy, Amster- 
dam, Birmingham, Cienfuegos, CO- 




burg, Fuchau, Glasgow, Kingston, 
(Jamaica), Nottingham, Santiago, 
Southampton, *Vera Cruz, Valpar- 

Class 6, $4,ooo"-Antung, Bahia, 
Bombay, Bordeaux, Dresden, Co- 
lon, Dublin, Dundee, Hanchow, 
Leipzig, Munich, Nanking, Naples, 
Nuremberg, Para, Pernambuco, 
Plauen, Santos, Stuttgart, Toronto, 
Vancouver, Victoria. 

Class 7, $3,500 Apia, Barmen, 
Barranquilla, Basle, Berne, Brad- 
ford, Chemnitz, Chungking, Co- 
logne, Dalny, Edinburgh, Geneva, 
Genoa, Georgetown, Lucerne, 
Mannheim, Monterey, Montevideo, 
Nagasaki, Odessa, Palermo, 
Prague, Quebec, Reichenberg, Ri- 
mouski, San Juan del Norte, Smyrna, 
Tamsui, Vladivostock, Winnipeg, 

Class 8, $3,000 Aix la Chapelle, 
Annaberg, Barbadoes, Batavia, Bat- 
oum, Burslem, Calais, Carlsbad, Co- 
lombo, Dunfermline, Florence, Frei- 
burg, Ghent, Hamilton, (Ont.), 
Hanover, Harput, Huddersfield, 
Jerusalem, Kehl, La Guayra, Leg- 
horn, Liege, Maniz, Managua, 
Nantes, Nassau, Newcastle, (N. S. 
W.), Newcastle, (Eng.), Port An- 
tonia, Port au Prince, St. John (N. 
B.), St. Michaels, St. Thomas, (W. 
I.), San Jose, Sheffield, Swansea, 
Sydney, (N. S.), Sydney, (N. S. 
W.) , Tampico, Three Rivers, (Que.) , 
Trieste, Trinidad. 

Class 9, $2,500 Acapulco, Aden, 
Algiers, Alexandretta, Bamberg, 
Belize, Bergen, Breslau, Brunswick, 
Cardiff, Chihuahua, Ciudad Jaurez, 
Ciudad Porfirio Diaz, Collingwood, 
Cork, Crefeld, Curacao, Dusseldorf, 
Fibenstock, Gothenburg, Hamilton, 
(Bermuda), Hull, Jerez de la Frontera, 
La Rochelle, Leeds, Magdeburg, 
Malaga, Malta, Maracaibo, Martin- 
ique, Mazatlan, Milan, Moscow, 
Nice,.Nogales, Nuevo Laredo, Oril- 
lia, Plymouth, Port Limon, Puerto 
Cortez, Rheims, Rosario, St. John's, 
(N. F.), St. Etinne, Sault Ste. Marie, 
Seville, Sherbrooke, Stettin, Tama- 
tive, Teguciglapa, Teneriffe, Treb- 
izond, Valencia, Weimar, Yarmouth, 
Zanzibar, Zittau. 

Class to, $2,000 Aguascalientes, 


Photograph by Johnston 

Photograph by Bolles, Brooklyn 








Photograph by Webb & Judd, Huntsville 

Amherstburg, Antigua, Asunscion, 
Bagdad, Belleville, Belgrade, Bris- 
tol, Brockville, Campbelltown, Cape 
Gracias, Cape Haytien, Cartagena, 
Castellamare di Statia, Catania, 
Ceiba, Charlottetown, Chatham, 
Coaticook, Colonia, Cornwall, Dur- 
ango, Ensenada, Fort Erie, Funchal, 
Gaspe, Gibraltar, Glauchau, Goder- 
ich, Gpree-Dakar, Granville, Gren- 
oble, Guadaloupe, Guelph, Hermo- 
sillo, Hobart, Iquique, Jalapa, 
Jamestown, Kingstown, (Ont.), La 
Paz, Limoges, London. (Ont.), Ma- 
drid, Manzanillo, Muskat, Mata- 
moros, Messina, Moncton, Niagara 
Falls, Patras, Peterborough, Port 
Hope, Port Louis, Port Rowan, 
Port Stanley, Prescott, Progreso, 
Puerto Cabello, Puerto Plata, Riga, 
Rouen, Saigon, St. Christopher, St. 
Hyacinthe, St. John's (Que.), St. 
Pierre, St. Stephen, St. Thomas, 
(Ont.), Saltillo,Sarnia, Sierra Leone, 
Sivas, Stanbridge, Stavanger, Strat- 
ford, (Ont.), Suva, Tahiti, Turin, 
Turk s Island, Tuxpam,Utilla, Ven- 
ice, Wallaceburg, Warsaw, Windsor 
(Ont.), Windsor (N. S.), Woodstock. 

You big boys who have secret inten- 
tions to see foreign lands by way of the 
consular service, one of these days, 
might do worse than to take down your 
atlas right now, and locate these places 
all of them. It will refresh your recol- 
lections of geography, and incidentally 
it will show you where most of Uncle 
Sam's foreign commerce is handled. 
For one of the important perhaps the 
most important of the duties of a con- 
sul is to promote his country's foreign 
commerce. Possibly there are some er- 
rors in this list if so you can correct us; 
we have done our best to make it accurate. 

To be sure, Senator Lodge's bill is not 
yet the law but it has been favorably 
acted upon in the senate, and the 
house is expected to fall into line for it, 
after, perhaps, making some minor 
amendments. The senate committee 
that had it in charge is said to have cut 
out most of the civil service reform ideas 
the original bill embodied, but the mere 
classfication of the service, and the adop- 
tion of the salary basis instead of fees, 


will make a big improvement; the civil 
service idea will have its way later, very 
likely. The principal business organ- 
izations of the country are reported to 
be urging the passage of the bill, and 
they very properly have a good deal of 
influence at Washington, since in ad- 
vancing America's foreign commerce for 
their own direct gain they are indirectly 
serving all of us here at home. 

The Lodge bill stipulates that no per- 
son who is not a citizen of the United 
States shall hereafter be appointed in 
our consular service, and prohibits men 
in that service from engaging in any 
other business. There are some folks 
who think this last provision would be a 
good one to adopt for all of Uncle Sam's 

Now then, pick out your consulates, 
boys, and begin studying; appointments 
may go by political favor nowaday, but 
the chance is that by the time you get 
ready to file your application there will 
be some sort of civil service examination 
to pass. 


IT did not take the house of representa- 
tives long to pass the Hepburn rail- 
way rate bill, but the senate is likely to 
do things to that measure before it passes 
it if it ever does. Mr. McCall of Mas- 
sachusetts, in the house protested 
against "enacting popular noises into 
laws," but a very large majority of his 
colleagues seemed to think there was 
something more than popular noise be- 
hind the demand for the passage of a 
railway rate law. 

The principal provisions of the Hep- 
burn bill are the following: 

It defines a railroad as including 
practically every facility for inter- 
state transportation by rail, such as 
private cars, switches, elevators and 

It strikes at "midnight tariffs" by 
extending to thirty days the time re- 
quired to put changes into effect. 

It authorizes the interstate com- 
merce commission to determine a 
"just and reasonable and fairly re- 
munerative rate," whenever, upon 
complaint, it is of the opinion that 
any rate or practices affecting 
rates are "unjust or unreasona- 
ble or unjustly discriminatory or 
unduly preferential. " Such a 
rate shall be the maximum rate. 





Photograph by J. F. Lewis, Riverton, Iowa 

Commission-made rates shall go 
into effect after notice to the carrier 
and remain in effect three years. 

It includes no specific provision 
for review, but provides that the 
commission may go into court for 
the enforcement of any order and, 
if this order was "regularly made 
and duly served," the court must en- 
force it. 

A penalty of $5,000 is provided for 


each offence, every distinct violation 
to be a separate offence and, in case 
of continuing violation, each day to 
be deemed a separate offence. 

Any party to the original proceed- 
ings may appeal for a re-hearing, but 
no such provision is made for any 
other shipper or carrier. 

The interstate commerce commis- 
sion is enlarged from five to seven 





Photograph by C. M. Gilbert 

members, the term extended to seven 
years,and the salary raised to $ 10,000. 

The section concerning punishment 
for offenses against the proposed law 
contains, as you will observe, no provi- 
sion for imprisoning offenders. And it 
is claimed by good lawyers that the 
clause covering fines is essentially con- 
fiscatory in its nature, and will at the 
first test be held by the supreme court to 

be unconstitutional. This would appear 
to leave the bill weak at a vital point; for 
if violaters of the law can neither be im- 
prisoned nor fined as heavily as the letter 
of the instrument provides, they may be 
tempted to take chances, as they have 
done under existing laws regulating rail- 
way affairs. Perhaps this feature of the 
proposed legislation will be made milder, 
and more positive as to its enforcement, 
in the senate. 


THE house has also passed the bill 
admitting the four southwestern ter- 
ritories as two states linking Arizona 
and New Mexico in one, and Oklahoma 
and Indian Territory in the other, ac- 
cording to the desire of the president. 
But Senator Foraker declared he had 
enough votes pledged against the bill in 
its house form to defeat it. Mr. For- 
aker argued that the bill admitting these 
territories should give the people living 
there a chance to vote for or against ac- 
cepting admission on these terms, and 
his contention is apparently a fair one. 
Some observers say that Arizona would 
vote against being joined to New Mex- 
ico; they say that most of the public as 
well as private business of New Mexico 
is conducted in the Spanish language, 
and that an army of interpreters would 
be needed if the English-speaking terri- 
tory were joined to the Spanish-speaking 
one in a single state. Also they say that 
the distances public officers would have 
to travel would be enormous and 

On the other hand, the advocates of 
the union of the two territories say that 
neither is entitled as yet to admission 
as a state, while both together would only 
make one of the smaller states, in popu- 
lation. The total vote of Arizona in 1904 
was only 19,667 one vote less than in 
1902; of New Mexico, in 1904, only 
43,011. Oklahoma alone cast 109,145 
votes in 1904, a gain of nearly 15,000 over 
the vote in 1902, showing a rapid growth. 




From stereograph copyright 1908 by Underwood Si Underwood 

Nobody questions Oklahoma's right to fied to come in along with Oklahoma, 
enter the Union as a state, and most of Under a new arrangement the Indians 
the people of Indian Territory are satis- hold lands individually, and become 




From stereograph by Q-. L. Chester, copyright 1906 by Underwood & Underwood, Tfe.w Xo.rfc 




citizens on the same terms as the rest of 
us. The states which cast a smaller vote 
than Oklahoma in 1904 are: Alabama, 
Delaware, Florida, Idaho, Louisiana, 
Maine, Mississippi, Montana, Nevada 
(which cast but 11,718 votes, or nearly 
8,000 less than Arizona), New Hampshire, 
North Dakota, Oregon, Rhode Island, 
South Dakota, Utah, Vermont, and Wy- 
oming seventeen in all, and several of 
these cast hardly more than half as many 
votes as Oklahoma. 

AS each session of congress proceeds 
there is evidence that wherever a 
number of human beings are gathered 
together, no matter for what purpose, 
there is sure to be some friction and 

excitement. It requires the "thinking 
ear" sometimes to get the correct per- 
spective of acute situations that arise at 
Washington. As it is true in every-day 
affairs of life that "what he said," and 
"what she said," and "what they said" 
seems to be of paramount interest, so it 
is equally a fact that hearsay sometimes 
exercises an influence even in affairs at 
Washington. What is spoken face to 
face appears quite different when re- 
ported in cold print, and even the inser- 
tion of a comma has been known com- 
pletely to change the meaning of a 
phrase, as in a well known instance 
where a comma in a quotation from 
Shakespeare was misplaced and the 
good old poet was made to say: "There's 
a divinity that shapes our ends rough, 
hew them how we will." 

This is rather "rough" on the poet, 
but is a very good example of how the 
meaning of a sentence may be changed 
by a slight error. It is like this with 
the hearsay information which drifts 
from the capitol to committee rooms and 
through the departments, and possibly 
on to the executive mansion, and is apt 
to be misunderstood and misinterpreted. 



By Charles Warren Stoddard 

Author of "South Sea Idyls," "Islands of Tranquil Delight," etc 


FROM the A 1 a m e d a 
Marshes, lifting one's 
eyes unto the hills, one 
beholds a cross of vast pro- 
portions resting upon the 
Summer bronze-brown 
slopes. It is in reality a 
thicket of evergreens plant- 
ed so densely and with such 
mathematical accuracy that 
at a distance it looks not 
unlike the cross itself, or 
at least the shadow of it. 
The planting of this forest 
of a thousand perennials 
was the reverent thought and act of 
Joaquin Miller, The Poet of the Sierras; 
it is the crowning glory of The Heights, 
his home for the last score of years; and 
seen from afar, it seems to set there the 
hallowed seal of silence and seclusion. 
Silence is all in all to him. In his 
remarkable poem, "As It Was in the 
Beginning," Canto I, the Poet sings: 


"Aye, Silence seems some maid at prayer, 
God's arm about her when she prays 

And where she prays and everywhere, 
Or storm-strewn days or sundown days 

What ill to Silence can befall 

Since Silence knows no ill at all ? 



"Vast silence seems some twi- 
light sky 

That leans as with her weight 
of stars 

To rest, to rest, no more to 

But rest and rest eternally. 

She loosens and lets down the 

She brings the kind-eyed cattle 

She breathes the fragrant field 
of hay 

And heaven is not far away. 


"The deeps of soul are still the deeps 
Where stately silence ever keeps 
High court with calm Nirvana, where 
No shallows break the noisy shore 
Or beat, with sad, incessant roar, 
The fettered, fevered world of care 
As noisome vultures fret the air. 


"The star-sown seas of thought are still, 

As when God's ploughmen scatter corn 

Along the mellow grooves at morn, 

In patient trust to wait His will. 

The star-sown seas of thought are wide 

But voiceless, noiseless, deep as night; 

Disturb not these, the silent seas 

Are sacred unto souls allied 

As golden poppies unto bees. 

Here, from the first, rude giants wrought, 



Here delved, here scattered stars of thought 
To grow, to bloom in years unborn, 
As grows the gold-horned yellow corn." 

For five and thirty years the Poet and 
I have been fast friends. We met first, 
in 1870, in San Francisco. He had 
come from the wilds of Oregon with his 
heart set upon the conquest of London. 
I, weary with trying to make my way in 
a commercial community, had banished 
myself to the Tahitian Paradise betrayed 
to the modern world by the romances of 
Herman Melville. Upon the eve of my 
departure Joaquin arrived in town; we 
had corresponded and felt familiar, but 
we now struck hands for the first time. 
When he found that I was about to set 
sail for the South Seas, there was a 
moment when a breath, perhaps, might 
have blown him my way; but our fates 
were sealed; he went to Glory and I to 
guavas, and a green grave still awaits us 
both thank God! 

Once, indeed, I had been within a 
rocket's flight of The Heights, but I 
was a unit in a symposium of poets 
staked out under the live oaks in a foot- 
hill canyon, and the question, "What Is 
Inspiration?" had to be settled at once 
and forever before any of us could hope 
to go up higher; and, if I am not mis- 
taken it was left unsettled when we were 
overtaken by the Twilight of the Gods. 

The day and the hour were set for the 
beginning of my pilgrimage to The 
Heights. A covey of sea-doves con- 
voyed the ferry from San Francisco to 
the Oakland shore; they were of the tint 
and apparently of the texture of the mist 
that hovered over us and out of which 
they seemed to have been fashioned. At 
the pier a train threaded the Oaklands 
and at East Oakland skirted the Port of 
Missing Ships, where all the sorry craft 
that have never been heard from ride at 
anchor with their yards locked in a long 
and last embrace. Even of a Summer 
afternoon they are a forlorn spectacle; 
in moonlight one might hear the hoarse 
cry of the bo's'n and the sigh of the 

wind in the rigging though for the 
most part 'tis in tatters now and a sight 
to see. 

The train halts at Fruit Vale and will 
go no further; but there is a trolley that, 
runs the length of the vale with a termi- 
nus at Dimond, a little cluster of houses 
at the foot, the very toes of the hills. 
Here I alighted and cast about me some- 
what anxiously lest the Poet, being a 

* 7 O 

dreamer and dreaming up under the 
clouds yonder, should have forgotten to 
let down his conveyance and I might, 
peradventure, be compelled to climb to 
The Heights. 

A voice hailed me; I turned; on the 
porch of the village grocery, clad in a 
linen duster that fell to the tops of his 
long boot-legs, his amber locks and 
beard flowing from under his sombrero, 
stood Joaquin Miller, the Poet of the 
Sierras, waving me a welcome with his 
embroidered gauntlets. 

There was a good old-fashioned buggy 
with fenders over the wheels; a good 
old-fashioned family horse, who answered 
to the name of Kentucky when he felt 
like responding; brown paper parcels of 
ambrosia and a demijohn of nectar were 
in the locker under the seat; and the 
mail from the village postoffice, gathered 
at uncertain intervals, and which Joa- 
quin never opens, was in his pocket. 
As we began the ascent of the hill we 
found the syndicate road well oiled, and 
though the way was long and a little 
weary it was not so difficult as the path 
of virtue. Sometimes we drove under 
overhanging boughs; sometimes above 
them, for we were hanging upon the 
brink of a deep canyon where the air 
was warm and spicy, while above us and 
around us towered the rounded hills over 
whose brows the syndicate has already 
thrown a net of roads and trails that look 
not unlike a spider's web. No doubt 
some day suburban villas will cover the 
land to the very tip-top. 

Occasionally, looking backward, we 
caught glimpses of ranch life domestic 




exteriors, signs announcing "Poultry and 
eggs for sale," "Eggs laid while you 
wait;" and perhaps sheaves of withered 
maize or a harvest field freckled with 
pumpkins. Sometimes Kentucky stopped 
to think, or to join us in our admiration 
of the landscape. "Well, Kentucky, I 
am surprised at you!" said the Poet, but 
his was a mild surprise, or his voice 
belied him. "Never strike a horse," he 
added, turning to me as if I were a cab- 
driver. Once we drew up by the way- 
side and Joaquin descended. There 
was a spring trickling silently from the 
mountain-side, and in the short, sun- 
burnt grass an oasis of water cress; Joa- 
quin gathered an armful of this and we 
added it to our precious store; it was 
for the salad of the evening meal. 

Then on again and up and up, never 
faster than a walk, until we found our- 
selves coming out under the sky with 
almost everything below us. It was evi- 
dent we were approaching a settlement 
of some kind. Cottages were visible 
here and there among the trees. The 
general air of rusticity was preserved, 
yet the wildwood and the terraces and 
the flowers that seemed to be growing 
wherever they pleased, and the tiny 
dwellings builded barely within call of 
one another somehow gave one the im- 
pression that he was about to enter a 
new civilization. We drew up at a gate- 
way where an adjustable screen of wire 
might have been brushed aside in a 
jiffy by the mildest mannered beast that 
ever poached by the light of the moon. 



Upon the gatepost was tacked a paste- There is the tall couch with its cushions 
board placard bearing this inscription: and pillows and its ample skins covering 



Nothing to see Up Here Except Down Yonder, 

Said the Persian Poet : " We will not trespass upon the pretty carpet of Nature 
Today, but leave the Ferns and Flowers and all things clean and pretty to 
adorn the path of the Prince who comes TOMORROW." 



This notice has constantly to be re- 
placed because of the vandalism of 
souvenir hunters, who tear it down and 
carry it away with them. A Japanese 
youth hastened forward to lift aside the 
wire screen at the gateway. I entered 
and passed up a narrow wooden walk 
that may be a bridge over knee-deep 
grass for aught I know; it swayed a little 
under my weight; there was a jungle on 
one side of it, the haunt of birds; a frog 
saluted me from a parched throat; a 
large, snow-white cat gave welcome. 
Thus we three arrived at a terrace in 
front of the Chapel with a dainty Dean- 
ery on each side of it. The Chapel in 
the center between the Deaneries stands 
higher than they; it is mildly Gothic, 
with tinted glass in the windows and a 
cross upon its peak ; steps ascend to the 
Gothic porch in front. Here in one 
bewildering room, where, on occasions, 
mass has been said for the Portuguese 
laborers and their families scattered 
among the hills, Joaquin makes his 
home. An inventory of the contents of 
the Chapel cannot be made at a glance. 

it; convenient bits of furniture fit in any- 
where and everywhere; the trappings, a 
globe-trotter's trophies, hang upon the 
walls and from the rafters, and innumer- 
able photographs and pictures most of 
them bearing autographs are tacked 
over the walls and ceiling, lapping one 
upon another like fish-scales. What im- 
presses one here especially, as every- 
where about The Heights, is the pre- 
vailing atmosphere of simplicity, serenity 
and silence. 

Here The Little One, as I shall hence- 
forth call him, and I became friends on 
the instant; he is a young Buddhist, still 
in his teens, and with a delicate hand he 
waved me toward the little verandah to 
the Deanery on the Epistle side of the 
Chapel, and as I entered he followed me 
with velvet feet. 

He has a complexion of ivory; his 
large, dark, sympathetic eyes are lumin- 
ous with thought; the finger of destiny 
seems to have set its seal upon his placid 
countenance; he accepts without a mur- 
mur the mandates of the inevitable. 
With the exquisite courtesy of his race 


he wished me happiness in my new 
abode, assured me that dinner would be 
served very shortly and seemed to fade 
from my presence like a wraith. 

There was a fireplace in my sitting 
room; tiny windows with a dozen tiny 
panes of glass in each; more photo- 
graphs, more trophies, and in this room, 
as in the next, the sleeping-room, many 
evidences of "the touch of a vanished 
hand," for Maude, daughter of the Poet, 
lived here until her body was borne to 
its long rest upon the hillside far 
above us. 

Presently the Little One invited me 
to dinner. We crossed a rustic bridge 
with a seat upon one side of it; in rainy 
weather a torrent plunges beneath it; 
but a few paces above it is a ledge of 
rocks where a not too noisy waterfall 
makes music all the Winter long. Be- 
yond the bridge is the domestic wood- 
pile, suggestive of every home comfort; 
and the white cat or another just like 
it. Then comes the cosiest cottage of 
all, the Mother-House of the community, 
and there at the head of the table, 
stately but not austere, sat, as we en- 
tered, the Mother of the Poet, abloom 
in her ninetieth year. We were a 
charmed circle at that wholesome board. 
Wild honey and the good wine of the 
country added to the richness of the 
feast. There was Joaquin, most hospit- 
able of hermits; his mother with her 
maid of honor; The Little One, the Bud- 
dhist pure and simple; an older Japa- 
nese an evangelist who, before we 
began the evening meal, recited the 
Lord's Prayer in lisping English with 
the artlessness of a child and with no 
trace of accent in his speech. He will 
anon do mission work among his own 
people; meanwhile he lodges in a lodge 
about the size of a sentry-box, hidden 
away somewhere in the woods. The 
meal was a merry one. We served one 
another heartily, as members of a 
brotherhood should. " Give us this 
day our daily bread," said The Evan- 

gelist, in his plaintive voice, as if whis- 
pering in the ear of the Omnipresent, 
and how sweet the bread was that we 
broke together that evening. 

Having chatted a little while after eat- 
ing, we separated and drifted naturally 
to our several cells. The little maid of 
Arcadie, who brightens the quiet hours 
that fall to Mrs. Miller's lot, having seen 
her to her pillow where she slumbered 
like a child, withdrew to her own home, 
which is the farmhouse, for she is the 
farmer's daughter. The Evangelist 
sought his solitary abode, where some- 
times in the dead of night he hears the 
stealing footsteps of the wild children of 
the wilderness; they even knock at his 
door occasionally, with a furtive paw and 
sniff at the threshold, as if saying some- 
thing in a whisper: but he cares not. 
His meditations are undisturbed until 
daybreak, when he walks forth to com- 
mune with nature. 

The Little One, Dean of the Deanery 
on the Gospel-side of the Chapel, is 
even more silent and thoughtful than the 
Evangelist. His study is a picture of 
simplicity itself. There is a couch, upon 
which one may recline and lose oneself 
in thought. A rustic table and stool, 
the work of his own hands; a tripod, a 
little higher than the table, three slender 
saplings bound neatly together near the 
top, also his cunning workmanship 
these spread just enough to hold a dainty 
Japanese saucer; the saucer is filled with 
olive oil; from the oil a delicate wisp of 
rushes extends a little beyond the rim of 
the saucer; this is the wick he lights 
and it burns with a pure, white flame, 
which is the only light he uses while he 
sits at his desk reading and composing 
until the midnight hour and after. Ad- 
joining the study of The Little One is 
his sleeping-room, as pretty as a play- 
house, with a curtained couch and many 
books and pictures, some of the latter 
from his own brush; and here I found 
a pen and ink portrait of Yone Noguchi, 
the Poet of Japan, who for seven years 







i i 




t ( 








of his dreamy adolescence made The 
Heights his headquarters. In the early 
twilight the High Priest was in his 
Chapel, and though the Chapel door is 
ever open to the world, no one thinks of 

There was nothing for me to do but to 
go, also, to my rest. I did it willingly; 
the day had been a day of pleasures and 
surprises. I seemed to have entered 
into a life the like of which I had never 
known before. It was not exactly home 
life of the old, homely sort; it was not 
quite camping out. . It was not really 
community life, for our meals and the 
airs from heaven were the only things 
we shared in common; we were of all 
creeds; our faith or unfaith was never 
for a moment questioned; it was not 
Brook-Farming, all our ways were too 
sweetly solemn for that masquerade; it 
was not Liberty-Hall, for the boisterous 
movement would have jarred upon us 
and perhaps have broken the spell. We 
were not monastical, neither were we 
conventional; each was free to come 
and go without so much as a question- 
ing look from another. I suppose it was 
and is and, I trust, ever shall be, the 
simple life lived in a spirit of absolute 
simplicity. I was about to retire when 
The Little One entered with a jug of 
fresh spring water and two incense 
sticks; he asked if I would have the lat- 
ter lighted. Indeed I would. When he 
withdrew and I had blown out my 
candle, the joss-sticks glowed like 
twin stars over the black sea of the 

I had not failed to look at my watch 
before resigning myself to the darkness; 
it was just half past six in the evening 
and all was well. After a sleep that 
seemed centuries long, I was awakened 
by the sound of approaching voices. 
They drew nearer and nearer; I heard 
the High Priest saluting them from the 
Chapel porch, and then they passed on 
and were muffled and lost in the distance, 
I thought of Longfellow's, 

'"A voice replied far up the height 
Excelsior I " 

Could it be that mountain-climbers 
were a-stir at that hour? I struck a 
match and again consulted the time- 
piece. It was half-past ten and the end' 
of my watch below, as it proved. My 
four hours of sleep were packed with 
dreams such as confuse the head that 
lies upon a strange pillow. 

There wa's mist below us when 'we . 
went to sleep with "our little brothers : 
the birds," as the Saint of Assisi called! 
them. We were on an island in the sky.. 
Now we seemed to have been submerged! 
in an opaque ocean and I began to feel 
very much alone and not a little de- 
pressed. Every sound that punctuated! 
the vast stillness seemed greatly magni- 
fied and close at hand. I heard the frogs, 
prophesying rain with such surprising in- 
accuracy that they were worthy to be: 
made honorary members of the Weather 
Bureau. An owl uttered its tremulous, 
cry at intervals; once a raven, perchance,, 
fluttered at my window and used bad ! 
language, it may have been "Never- 
more" uttered in some unknown tongue;, 
it sounded to me like a protest, and I 
began to feel as if I were an outsider 
and that this night-bird at least regarded! 
me as an alien and an intruder. I heard! 
the baby scream of rabbits under the: 
house and the bay of the cowardly 
coyote, faint and afar off. 

I wondered if all the others were 
asleep save The Little One, and if he 
were in his study with the door wide 
open, poring over his beautiful books by 
the light of that pale lamp. What a 
night and an hour for incantations. I 
had asked The Little One if he was 
never afraid in those night watches. 
Not he! I had imagined the possibility 
of some beautiful, lithe snake stealing 
across his threshold uninvited he would 
not have cared, they were all harmless 
at The Heights; all things were harm- 
less here as harmless as the royal carp 




and the goldfish that flash like sunbeams 
in the shadow of the cat-tails in the toy 
lakes a few rods away. There was only 
one thing at which he for a moment hesi- 
tated, and said, "I am not really afraid 
of ghosts or spirits; I like the music of 
frogs and crickets; but when I am alone 
in my room at midnight and hear the 
water running at the spring I don't go 
out to it. Spirits haunt the water I 
think they are thirsty." 

Never were gentler souls than these 
who have found a welcome and a shelter 
at The Heights ever since the days of 
the Dream Child, Noguchi. "It is their 
exquisite refinement that pleases me," 
said Joaquin one day. "We find noth- 
ing approaching it among our young 
men of the same age. Their sweetness 
of nature; their willingness and eager- 
ness to add in some way to your comfort 
and pleasure; their delicacy and reserve 
they are always fearful of intruding 
make them a model for every nation 
under the sun ! you can say that for me" 

and the Poet fixed me with a look 
that seemed to question if I would be 
sure to do it. 

These lads whose English is the Eng- 
lish of culture, talked freely with me of 
the prose and poetry of Poe; of Emer- 
son, Wordsworth, Longfellow; of Shakes- 
peare of course, which goes without say- 
ing; of Bunyan's "Pilgrim's Progress," 
Victor Hugo, Walt Whitman, and even 
Bernard Shaw. 1 venture to say they 
are better posted on Russian literature 
much of which is translated into Japa- 
nese than many college graduates in 
the United States. The Little One is 
most fond of the poetry of Keats and 
is as familiar with his letters to Fanny 
Brawn as with his poems. There was 
hardly a quotation I could start to give 
them from the standard poets but they 
would finish it correctly ; they were ready 
to discuss the music of Wagner and had 
heard several of his music dramas. 

"We can whip the Russians," said 
The Evangelist one day; and then, with 


a forlorn little shrug of the shoulders 
"But we have no Tolstoi!" These are 
representatives of a people upon whom 
we are permitting fanatical missionaries 
and vainglorious reformers to force them- 
selves. Will the day never dawn when 
these misguided enthusiasts shall be- 
come capable of learning their lesson 
from those whom they are seeking to 

The hours were many but not long till 
daybreak. I heard the little spring in 
front of the Chapel door lisping softly; 
I heard all the mysterious and unac- 
countable noises that are born of soli- 
tude and darkness, and sometimes 
fancied that I heard the tintinnabulation 
of fairy bells they were the voices of 
the night singing their song of silence. 

At dawn the first step I heard was 
The Little One's; the last in the day 
Joaquin's. No doubt the Poet has 
solved the problem of life so far as it 
concerns him and his peculiar tempera- 
ment. The Chapel is at all times sacred; 
one does not enter it unbidden. The 
mind upon awaking from a refreshing 
sleep is usually of crystal-clearness and 
as calm as a mountain spring. It is 
then that the Poet does his writing; it 
is then that those flashes of inspiration 
come to him like a voice from a burning 
bush. He sees no one until noon, or 
even later, no one save only The Little 
One, who enters softly and places by his 
bedside his morning repast; then The 
Little One withdraws and the silence of 
the Chapel remains undisturbed until its 
occupant has finished his task and steps 
forth to give us cheerful greeting from 
his terrace. Until the dinner hour he 
is busy out of doors. As he walks to 
and fro he plucks a withered branch and 
casts it aside, or nourishes a drooping 
plant, or changes the current of the little 
water-courses, for there is a living spring 
up yonder that has never yet failed him, 
even in the longest Summer drought. 
Perhaps he is putting young saplings 
into the soil, for he is as fond of plant- 

ing trees as the late Gladstone was of 
destroying them. 

It is this spirit of industry, of enter- 
prise, coupled with a love of the beauti- 
ful, that has made his sky-farm, which 
was a desert when he purchased it, to 
blossom as the rose. He has said of 
The Heights: "The land is so steep I 
cannot make a mortgage stick on it;" 
and, again, "It raises nothing but 
stones." These stones were not molded 
in vain. He, with the help of a little 
company of retainers, has gathered them, 
and now the slopes are terraced like those 
Italian vineyards where the grapes hang 
ripening in the sunshine. Of these 
stones, also, he has builded his monu- 
ments that crown his several hilltops. 
There is the pyramid to Moses, and to 
him not because he was the great law- 
giver, but because, as Joaquin says, "he 
established the first waterworks," and 
one cannot live through a rainless Sum- 
mer without appreciating that. There is 
the round tower to the memory of 
Browning; and the square, turretted 
tower with the slender arch, that when 
seen from a little distance reminds one 
of a vignetted castle in England or 
Wales, and this is to the honor and 
glory of Fremont, the Pathfinder. 

There is a graveyard in a shady cor- 
ner of one of the hills and within its low 
wall lie thirteen mounds marking the last 
resting place of those who, in the flesh, 
once called The Heights their home. 
Here is the grave of Maude, the Poet's 
daughter, to whom he dedicated his 
"Songs of the Sirens," and here the 
grave of a forlorn artist, whose last hours 
were lightened by that sense of security 
found only in the heart of a friend. All 
those who lie there were in so*me way 
associated with the sodality at The 
Heights, and flowers are strewn upon 
their graves when little pilgrimages are 
made thither. 

Not far off from the last resting place 
of those who were befriended by the Poet 
stands his own funeral pyre. It is suffi- 




ciently imposing to bid one pause in 
silence for a while; by climbing upon 
the pedestal, one can just look over the 
top of the pyre and see the hollow, now 
partially filled, wherein his ashes are to 
fall and lie, after the cleansing fire has 
consumed the body. Wine and oil and 
fragrant gums and spices are to feed the 
flames. Only the nearest and dearest are 
to witness the funeral rites long may 
they be deferred. 

Upon a large rock not far away is 
engraved this legend, "To the Un- 
known." Upon this rock and every 
monument, and upon the pyre itself, in- 
truders upon these private grounds have 
scratched upon the stones their unnam- 
able names. This is the incurable itch 
of civilzation. No savage on earth could 
be persuaded to do anything so vulgar 
or profane. 

The simple life prevails at The 
Heights. It is a life of contemplation 
and of kindly deeds. Joaquin Miller is 
harsh to none, full of kindness and 

charity for all, and in his sympathies as 
liberal as the sun. It is useless to deny 
that his hospitality has often been im- 
posed upon. How can it be otherwise 
in a world like ours? Some of those to 
whom he has given shelter have abused 
him; some whom he has trusted have 
betrayed him. His ideals may be be- 
yond the age not that the world is ever 
going to be any better or has ever been 
much worse. Life at The Heights is 
essentially a contemplative life, and no 
one who has not been a member of the 
inner circle for a season can picture, or 
even guess at it. 

Pleasures there are, but sweet and 
homely ones. Joaquin had left us for 
a day and a night. Business dragged 
him down into the nether world for 
poets must have publishers and pre- 
dicaments, like mere prose writers. Of 
course we missed him sorely, for, 
though retiring and often self-absorbed, 
he was the center of our solar system, 
and somehow the day seemed empty and 



dull. Moreover, it was a trifle chilly 
up yonder a thousand feet above the 
sea. The Little One, The Evangelist 
and I had been huddling in an arbor, 
where, when the weather is warm 
enough, the evening meal is served. 

Said The Little One to The Evangel- 
ist: "Shall we not kindle a fire for our 
guest?" Then it was for me to say if 
I would permit a fire to be kindled. Of 
course I -would. The Evangelist began 
searching about the woodpile and soon 
discovered a bit of shell-shaped bark 
with the .moss upon it. He gathered 
kindlings and twigs such as might have 
been twisted into rustic bric-a-brac, and 
brought these to the place where I was 
sitting. The Little One had gone to his 
Deanery on the Gospel side of the 
Chapel and returned with a large box 
filled with papers. The bark was set up 
like a chimney with its back against the 
breeze; The Little One crumpled his 
papers and stored them within it; the 
twigs and .kindlings were stacked about 
as daintily and as prettily by the deft 
fingers of these Orient lads as if it were 
really done for ornament. A match was 
applied to the paper; a slender coil of 
smoke climbed into the air; then tongues 
of flame leaped forth and darted like 
fiery serpents in and out in a brilliant 
frenzy. The Little One laid upon the 
fire lumps of odoriferous gum, perhaps 
with a silent prayer, and then again fed 
the flames with his crumpled papers. 
They were beautiful and some of them 
wonderful to behold. Tablets of rice 
paper bearing upright columns of inter- 
changable characters in Japanese and 
Chinese that looked like trailing vines; 
broad lengths of satin paper with curved 
and wavy splashes of ink upon them as 
attractive as flowers in black and white; 
slips of paper, filmy and silky, bearing 
signs and symbols that looked like little 
whirlwinds of butterflies and chrysanthe- 
mum petals and cherry blossoms danc- 
ing in the air. What were they? The 
school exercises of The Little One when 

he was a little lad at home in his own 
village by the inland sea. Poems., the 
joyous or sad impulses of his youth. 
Translations from the English into his 
nativ<? tongue. Apostrophes to the 
flowers, the dewdrops, the bees, the 
birds, the mountains and seas and all 
the soaring stars. This was our burnt 
offering, and some of it sailed forth in 
golden flocks and some like shining 
spirits that vanished into thin air, and 
some lay like sombre crepe among the 
embers and some like breadths of black 
satin, fluted or gathered .into waves by 
invisible hands. Then we thought how 
there are those who believe that nothing 
perishes, but everything, in some invisi- 
ble form, survives forever; and thus had 
we transfigured all the youthful dreams, 
the joys, the sorrows, the struggles and 
the triumphs of The Little One into the 
language that is immortal and sent them 
winging their air-way into the very skies. 
There were three of us, believers in 
three widely differing .creeds, but as 
fire- worshippers -we were one in spirit 
and in truth,. and we : sat there in spirit- 
ual communion until the last spark had 
ascended heavenward and the embers 
were cold and gray. This is but an epi- 
sode in our everyday life at The Heights. 

One afternoon a frog had been croak- 
ing near the Chapel. The Little One 
said it was a sign of rain, whereat I 
sighed for it with all my heart, being 
a lover of rain and rainbows. Immedi- 
ately the heavens were opened and such 
a flood of sunshine descended upon us 
as soon drove us to a shade for shelter. 
My heart fainted within me; for months 
we had had no rain and the parched soil 
had caked and shrunken so that one 
might lay one's hand in the deep crev- 
ices that seamed the surface so that it 
looked like a field of broken lava. 

Joaquin had noted my dismay at this 
surfeit of sunshine, and calling from his 
Chapel door, asked: "How would you 
like to have a shower?" I begged for it. 
"Come," said he, summoning The Little 



One and The Evangelist to his aid. 
"Come. Let us pray to the Rain Godl" 
We entered the Chapel. At that mo- 
ment a pilgrim and a stranger such as 
one is sure to encounter at The Heights 
on Sundays and holidays, approached 
and asked courteously enough: "Is this 
The Poet of the Sierras? May I take 
a snapshot of you, Mr. Miller?" "If 
you can hit me," said Joaquin. No 
sooner said than done; then the Poet 
added, "We are upon the point of per- 
forming a solemn ceremonial. The 
drought has been long and we are 
about to pray to the Rain God to re- 
lieve us; will you join us?" The 
stranger seemed eager to do so. Joa- 

quin added, as he was donning his Klon 
dike suit of sable, "We are to enter th 
Temple; let all observe silence; le 
everything be done decently and ii 
order!" From the Chapel we were t 
descend into the chamber of The Littl 
One and pass through it to his study 
where the miracle of the rain is per 
formed within closed doors. The Littl 
One, bearing two joss-sticks before him 
led the way; then came The Evangelist 
the match bearer; the stranger followed 
and I preceded Joaquin, who brough 
up in the rear. Perfect silence was ob 
served by all. In the study the door: 
were closed, the shades drawn at th( 
windows; the high priest then explainec 



that the paw of the five-toed bear that 
hung from the ceiling, but within reach, 
brought the rain; the tail of the coyote 
that hung near it caused the rain to 
cease, and that the three lengths of the 
lariat, woven of horse-hair and attached 
to the ceiling, were to be held in our 
hands as we faced the East. The Evan- 
gelist struck a taper and lit the joss- 
sticks in the hands of The Little One; 
then we all stood facing the eastern wall 
of the room and standing very near it. 
Now began the invocations; Joaquin, as 
high priest, medicine man, Thaumatur- 
gus, etc., chanted an Indian chant with 
thrilling effect and danced an Indian 
dance as if in the very ecstasy of fana- 
ticism. Pausing, we listened in vain for 
the approaching shower. "The spell 
does not always work," said the medi- 
cine man, with some show of impatience. 
The air grew heavy with the odor of 
smoking sandal- wood; we stood with our 
faces to the East; the song and the 
dance were resumed with increased vol- 
ume and energy. 

"No!" said Joaquin, impetuously, "It 
is useless. We have sinned. Let us 
give it up!" Then it was that we heard 
the patter of rain-drops on the window- 
panes and on the roofs, while the eaves 
dripped right merrily. Suddenly the 
Poet threw the door wide open, and 
there, from a sky that was radiant with 
sunshine, fell a shower that might glad- 
den the heart of Summer; a shower of 
gold such as one finds falling from a 
cloudless tropical sky. Every drop was 
a flashing jewel. The pebbles in the 
path before the door were shining, the 
leaves sparkling and dripping with tears 
of joy. As for us, we could see through 
the doorway there were ten thousand 
proofs of the reality of this miracle of 
the blessed rain. 

Joaquin closed the door; we returned 
through The Little One's chamber to 
the Chapel and from thence descended 
upon the terrace. Everything was bloom- 
ing and brilliant and in the fresh, moist 

hedges the birds sang a new song of 
praise and thanksgiving. The stranger 
bowed and withdrew, while upon his 
face there was an expression we were 
unable to interpret. 

Joaquin said that when Sir Henry 
Irving and Miss Ellen Terry were his 
guests at The Heights they had passed 
from the gate to the threshold of the 
Chapel over a bed of rose-petals strewn 
before them as they threaded the path 
Miss Terry smiled her blaze-smile 
through all the rain-shower; but Sir 
Henry, from the first, watched every- 
thing transpiring with intense interest 
and curiosity, as if he were all the 
while considering the ingenuity of this 
pretty invention and studying its drama- 
tic effects. 

Two pictures arise with especial vivid- 
ness when I recall my visit to The 
Heights. One a rustic seat built against 
a tree upon the very brink of Joaquin 's 
wild, deep canyon. It was built by 
young Yone Noguchi, and thither he 
often used to wend his way alone and 
sit for hours in contemplation of the 
wonderful view it commands. From the 
higher Heights, a thousand feet above 
the sea, on a clear day the eye may 
sweep land and sea from Mount Tamal- 
pais to the Farralones and far to the 
south toward the San Jose valley. The 
groves of Alameda and the Bay of San 
Francisco are at one's feet. On a clear 
night the streets of the metropolis shine 
like furrows sown with golden seed. In 
the moonlight one seems to be throned 
in space ruling over a dream-world 
bathed in a sea of silence. When the 
mists gather, one is above the clouds in 
the world, but not of it. 

The other picture is that of the little 
southern window in the cottage where 
sat the sweet mother of the Poet, in the 
serenity of her ninety years, and waved 
a shadowy hand to me as I drove away 
from The Heights. 

She had said to me one day, with a 
weary smile: "Well, when next you 

come to The Heights you can kneel by 
my grave if you want to!" I assured 
her that I did not want to, but if, when 
I returned, she was not in her cottage to 
give me welcome, that should be my sad, 
sad privilege. And now her voice is 
stilled forever and her withered hands 
folded upon her breast in everlasting 

The Heights as an investment, from 
a commercial point of view, may not 
have been a very great success. Neither 
the poet nor the philosopher counts the 
cost when he is struggling to achieve an 
ideal. When the farmer who tills those 
cloud-capped acres on shares made his 
annual return to the master, he handed 
over a dime as the Poet's share; some- 
one had been good enough to pay for 
the violets she bore away as a souvenir. 
Perhaps one of her sort a year is a 
good average considering the tendency 
of the age. 

Do these results disconcert the Poet, 
who for twenty years has devoted his 
chief energies to the development of his 
estate? Not in the least. He has had 
his reward in deeds that are infinitely 
more precious than ducats. He has 
lived his own life in his own way, and 
has helped others to live theirs, as other- 
wise they might not have been able 
to do. Verily, he has had his reward. 

I seem to see him now: whose indi- 
viduality, whose earnestness of purpose, 
whose idiosyncracies, even, are the in- 
spiration of the life that is led there on 
The Heights. I seem to see him, even 
as I read him, in his "Prefatory Post- 
script" to his epic "As It Was in the 
Beginning," standing in the shadow of 
his pyramidal monument to Moses, this 
Poet, uttering with clarion voice his final 

" I cry aloud from my mountain top, as a 
seer ! " 


By Aloysius Coll 

SOME will come with tender words, 
And some with laurel bays, 
And some with eyes too blind to read 
The letters of thy praise. 

What matters? None may follow now 

With thee are one today 
The long Tomorrow of the soul, 

The fading Yesterday. 

The letters on the fingerboard 

That pointed east are one 
With all the dimmer signs that point 

The setting of the sun. 

What matters? One hath come to meet 
Thee, traveling down the night, 

With sandal-shoon and scallop shell, 
A compass and a light. 

Better He knows the way than we 

'Tis He alone doth know 
The highways on the fingerboard, 

And how they turn and go. 

One to the pride of place in song 

The snowy peak of art; 
One to the simple memory 

Of thy abounding heart. 

Farewell! though creeping moss shall blot 

Thy praises from the sun, 
With thee Tomorrow and Today, 

And Yesterdav are one! 

A N 




Dear Mr. Luce: I congratulate 
you upon your temperance address;* it 
is the rarest thing in politics to see the 
exact truth stated scientifically. The 
Transcript, the Herald and the other 
great Boston papers excepting, as you 
may have noticed, the Hearst paper 
disgraced the city and shamed them- 
selves by leading the angry outcry for 
the reopening of hotel bars on any terms 
even at the cost of CLOSING A 
PUBLIC SCHOOL (located within 400 
feet of the Hotel Touraine, and so oper- 
ating to bar the sale of liquor in that 
house), in order that the Touraine's bar 
might be allowed to peddle rotgut to 
a lot of people who could easily get the 
stuff elsewhere, and who would all be 
better off without it. 

The times fairly cry out for politicians 
who have sense enough to recognize the 
great primary needs of our social life, 
and the courage to fight for them with 
moral passion. Massachusetts politics 
today is at a dead level of uninspired 
dullness; only Senator Crane, the mod- 
est, lean little Business-Man, pretending 
to no distinction as orator or statesman, 
has offered any proposition, during my 
five years of disillusionizing residence 
in Boston, that appeals to any higher 
human instinct than mere profit. His 
"government baby bureau" bill, sneered 
at by the cheap wits of the press, em- 
bodies more genuine statesmanship than 
a hundred grafting tariffs. You too give 
me a straw of comfort, for I believe you 
are alive and growing; that you have 
Boston Transcript, February 5, 1906. 

both the courage and the moral decency 
to appeal to the ideality of this people, 
and the sense to know that such an 
appeal, to any civilized people, is never 
made in vain, and never unsuccessfully, 
except, it may be, in hours of national 
intoxication, such as that black hour 
when, following our astonishingly easy 
victory over Spain, we began to murder 
our allies in the Philippines. Bryan 
then appealed, not in vain though unsuc- 
cessfully, to the better nature of this 
people; but I believed then, and I be- 
lieve now, that if his appeal on this point 
could have been presented as a single, 
isolated issue, not complicated by the 
money question nor the slogan of the 
"full dinner-pail" (a covert threat of the 
loss of work) we would have sustained 
him and proved true to the highest tra- 
ditions of this republic. 

More power to you I You may, and 
probably will, grow into the governor- 
shipbut far better and more satisfying 
than that or any other official honor, for 
yourself in your age and your family as 
a remembrance, will be the thought that 
you led your followers always for hon- 
esty and social progress. Any shallow 
chump can "stand pat"; it takes a man 
and a gentleman to dare new issues for 
social betterment. In the low level of 
political practices that marks our time, 
it demands more than ordinary courage 
for any politician even to defend the old 
standards of individual rights, against 
the new policy of paternalistic special 
privileges for the rich and the powerful. 



I doubt if any politician really under- 
stands how deeply we of the huge silent 
mass love and reverence a public man 
who represents and advocates our best 
aspirations, nor how deeply we dislike 
and distrust, even though we tolerate 
him, the public man who appeals only to 

our baser instincts. Above every other 
quality, we admire and swear by sheer 
courage, when it is shown in advocacy 
of those things which we hold of good 
report. Yours sincerely, 

Frank Putnam 

Boston. February 6, 1906. 

By Mary E, Fitzgerald 


THAT MRS. O'BRIEN of yours 
is distinguishing herself again, I 
hear," remarked the principal, as Miss 
Reid came into the office. 

"Why, what is she doing now?" laugh- 
ingly asked Miss Reid, who refused to 
see anything but comedies in what every- 
one else considered the tragic perform- 
ances of that lady, the autocratic ruler 
of her neighborhood by virtue of a sharp 
tongue, a brawny husband to defend her 
against the foes it made, and two boys, 
declared to be "imps of Satan." 

"Only tormenting the life out of little 
Mrs. Ehrenheit. I think even you will 
find it difficult to get any amusement out 
of that. To quote Mrs. Ehrenheit her- 
self, 'It's fierce.' " 

The principal joined in the laugh of 
the assembled teachers, but still looked 
a little vexed. 

"Do you think you could make her 
behave herself?" She put a coaxing 
arm around the girl. "If anyone can, 
you can. Do try, dear. You're such 
i master hand at getting your own way. 
It's a shame to have that poor little 
woman tortured." 

"O, I don't like to interfere in neigh- 
borhood quarrels,' ' objected Miss Reid. 

"If anyone can do it you can," said 
Miss Rose confidently. 

can get as many shelves as she wants 
from the janitor can get anything from 
anybody. I've almost gone on my knees 
for a year, with no shelves in sight yet. 
You fail? Well, I guess not" 

"Well, I'll try," said Miss Reid 
dubiously, "but you know Mrs. O'Brien 
is a trifle difficult at times." 

"Not with you," Miss Reid. She 
swears by you," said the principal, all 
her gloom dispelled. 

"I hope she may not swear at me," 
remarked Miss Reid, as she went out. 


"Well, but 'tis I that's glad to see 
you, darlint," exclaimed Mrs. O'Brien, 
her face radiant at the sight of the girl. 
"Come in, come in! Get out of thatl" 
she said, brushing the cat off the chair, 
and wiping it with the dish-cloth she 
held in her hand. "And you've been 
to Ireland and all over the world since 
I saw you last. The card you sent us 
from the Lakes of Killarney (it was 
kind of you to think of us; but then it's 
kind things you do always be doing) 
well if that card hasn't gone the rounds 
it's a caution 1 Everyone in the parish 
has seen it, and Himself is prouder of 
it than anyone; though to be sure he 
it the excuse for one of the 



biggest sprees he's had this long time/ 1 

She laughed as though it were a great 

"O " began Miss Reid. 

"There! There! Don't be worried 
about that," interrupted Mrs. O'Brien, 
"if it wasn't the card it would be some- 
thing else. He took it down to show to 
the men at the corner, and this one had 
to have a drink on it, and that one had 
to have one, and that's the way it went. 
But there, I'm talking about myself and 
never giving you a chance to say a word. 
Wait till I make you a strong cup of tea. 
Your nerves must be all of a trimbel 
after a day wid thim young divils; but 
it will be getting married you'll be 
before long," she said, her eye roving 
over her prettily dressed guest. "Girls 
like you don't go a-begging for a hus- 
band, though they do be saying teachers 
haven't much chance; the men are afraid 
of them." 

She laughed mischievously. 

Over the cup of tea which Miss Reid 
drank unflinchingly, though the strength 
of it nearly strangled her, they grew con- 
fidential and by degrees the gossip got 
around to the Ehrenheits. 

"They're Dutch," said Mrs. O'Brien 
with infinite contempt. "Dutch paddies, 
the children do be calling them; wid 
their limbergers and sauerkraut and the 
likes of that. They're a disgrace to a 
dacent neighborhood; and something 
the matter wid the hull of 'em. Never 
any mention of the father being dead 
or alive. It's my opinion he's a jail- 
bird." She nodded her head emphatic- 

"And the oldest girl is no better than 
she should be; but the Dutch are all 
soft. And a crippled boy! can't stir out 
of a chair! And no one has caught 
sight of the baby ; but one bears it often 
enough, I promise you. The divil fly 
away wid the hull of 'em, I say. Why 
don't they stick to their own land and 
not be coming to a dacent Irish neigh- 

"I'm going to teii you something, 
Mrs. O'Brien, but it's just between our- 
selves. I wouldn't want everyone to 
know," said Miss Reid, lowering her 
voice. "The father is in an asylum, 
made insane by losing his money in a 
building association, and by his daugh- 
ter's misfortune." 

"Glory be to God!" exclaimed Mrs. 
O'Brien. "The girl ought to be killed. 
The poor, dear man! But that's what it 
is to have children. The hussy 1 She 
looks quiet enough, too." 

"Oh, she is not so much to blame, 
Mrs. O'Brien. She married a man that 
had a wife in the old country. That 
might have happened to anyone, you 
know. Think what you would feel it 
littlle Nellie there came to such a turn." 
"May God protect us!" fervently ex- 
claimed Mrs. O'Brien, drawing the little 
girl closer to her. "It's slathers of 
trouble some people do be having, isn't 

"Yes, and then to crown all, the little 
boy slipped and dislocated his hip. 
They can't afford to get him a chair, 
so the poor little fellow has to sit all day 
in the same place, because the mother is 
not strong enough to move him. She 
and her daughter take him from the bed 
in the morning." 

Mrs. O'Brien moved about uneasily, 
and then burst out indignantly: 

"What business has a woman to be 
livin' ag'in your door and not be saying 
something about them things? Sure, 
I'd be glad to help her lift him any time, 
and so would anyone else wid a heart 
instid of a stone in their breast." 

"I knew you would, Mrs. O'Brien, if 
you understood. The boy knits very 
well," Miss Reid went on, "and some 
people are ordering their Winter stock- 
ings for their children from him, to help 
pay for a chair; but he hasn't been 
doing much lately, I hear." 

Jimmie, who had just come in, 

"You'd just ought to see him, Miss 


Reid, with a big stocking hanging to 
him, just like an old woman. The kids 
all threw stones and called him a sissy. 
It was great 1" 

"Yes," said Miss Reid gravely, "and 
it took all the money he had saved to 
pay for the windows." 

"If ever I hear of your throwing a 
stone, Jimmie O'Brien, there'll be some- 
thing doin' in this house, I promise you 
that. It's a fine thing when a lad can't 
sit in his own windows widout bein' 
hooted at," said Mrs. O'Brien. 

"You only laughed when I told you 
before," said Jimmie in an injured voice. 

"I didn't know some things then that 
I know now," replied Mrs. O'Brien 
majestically. "If they are Dutch, they 
have their feelings like everybody else, 
and if I hear " But Jimmie had dis- 

The baby next door began to cry. 

"I wonder what can be the matter 
with it," said Mrs. O'Brien. "Sure 
that poor woman has trouble enough, 
hasn't she?" 

"I think if you could see it, you might 
be able to suggest something to help 
it," said Miss Reid, her heart beating 
rapidly. "You are such a good nurse." 

Mrs. O'Brien blushed, hesitated and 
then said explosively: "To tell the 
truth, Miss Reid, I haven't been very 
friendly, the Lord forgive me! and she 
may hold it ag'in me. You know I didn't 
know, so I think I'd better not go in." 

"Oh, I think she'd be glad to be 
friends with you, and then you might 
offer to help her lift the boy, too. A 
nice neighbor like you might do her lots 
of good. Let us both go in. I want to 
see if there are any books I could lend 
the boy. He must be lonesome." 

Mrs. O'Brien, evidently very ill at 
ease, accompanied her. 

"We came in to see if there is any- 
thing we can do for the child," was her 
stately greeting to Mrs. Ehrenheit, who, 
blank amazement written all over her 
face, led the way to the bedroom. 

"And the poor, dear little boy," said 
Mrs. O'Brien, some minutes later, hold- 
ing the baby. "Now, why, Mrs. Ehren- 
heit, didn't you ask me to help you lift 
him? Sure, I'd be glad to help you do 
it, and Himself will come in at night 
and carry the lad out a block or two for 
a little diversion. Himself is not much 
to look at, sonny, but he's as gentle as 
a baby, so you needn't be afraid to trust 
him. He won't hurt you, I promise you 
that," she said, turning to the child. 
"And I do be so busy I can't get much 
time to darn stockings, and I hear you' re 
a beautiful knitter, so if you get the time 
I'd like a couple pair of stockings for 
Nellie by next Winter." 

A look of bitterness crept into Mrs. 
Ehrenheit's face which Mrs. O'Brien 
was quick to notice. 

"He'll sit right out in the front and 
do his knitting, and Himself will break 
every bone in the body of any of them 
kids that annoy him," she said firmly. 
"It's a burning shame for the likes of 
them to worry the likes of him; and all 
this child here needs is a bit of fresh air. 
Nellie do be crazy for a baby, and she'll 
take him out for you, and proud to do 
it." Mrs. Ehrenheit was speechless at 
the thought of the blessings that were 
about to fall upon her shoulders. 

"She's a nice, neat little body, if she 
is Dutch," said Mrs. O'Brien, as she 
escorted Miss Reid to the car, "and I'll 
do all I can for her, you may be sure." 

"Talk about Rosenfield and the Roo- 
shuns and Chinks," remarked the janitor 
two or three weeks later. "He isn't in 
it with that one," pointing to Miss Reid, 
"for a peacemaker. To see that husky 
O'Brien taking out that cripple of the 
Ehrenheit's every night would paralyze 
you! And Mrs. O'Brien and Mrs. 
Ehrenheit are as thick as thieves. 

"Do you want a shelf, Miss Reid?" 
he called, going after her as quickly as 
his rheumatic knees permitted. 



By John Coulter 


GREATER, NEW YORK is in the 
grasp of a frightful, crushing money- 
power, which, with its heaped-up hun- 
dreds of millions of dollars, has the first 
city in the United States completely 
under its control. The world has never 
seen anything like it; it is gigantic, 
unique. It can marshal $1,000,000,000 
under its banner, and it is not afraid of 
the City, the State or the Nation. It 
has no politics, and yet it owns politi- 
cians; it has friends in the board of 
aldermen, in the legislature and in con- 
gress, and it has high standing in the 
courts; it has the best of legal talent 
to construe the laws and complaisant 
judges to interpret their meaning. 
Should it find objection to statutes as 
they now stand, it can have new ones 
written and passed. 

I allude to the syndicate which has 
assumed control of the traction lines of 
the boroughs of Manhattan and the 
Bronx, and which may take over the 
Brooklyn Rapid Transit Company and 
other means of communication on Long 
Island. This syndicate has behind it 
the wealth of the Rothschilds, through 
August Belmont, who is its head; the 

fortune of the Vanderbilts, through Cor- 
nelius of that name; the money of the 
Standard Oil Company, through the 
house of Kuhn, Loeb & Company and 
Henry H. Rogers, the active head of 
this monoply of monopolies; the cash of 
the allied interests at the back of J. 
Pierpont Morgan, which have implicit 
faith in the man who brought the billion- 
and-a-half-dollars United States Steel 
Corporation into being; the hoard of 
the Equitable Life Assurance Society 
and the financial, moral and political in- 
fluence of the Consolidated Gas Com- 
pany, both of which are owned and con- 
trolled by Thomas Fortune Ryan, an all 
but equal partner with Mr. Belmont. 

This combination has organized 
a $445,000,000 stock-holding company, 
to which may be added $120,000,000 
when the Brooklyn Rapid Transit is 
taken in. This will come into the fold 
when Mr. Belmont makes the sign, and 
with it Pennsylvania railroad interests, 
controlling hundreds of millions more. 
The Pennsylvania Company, which owns 
the state of that name, is building tun- 
nels under the North and East rivers, 
as well as a line the length of Long 


Island, and the traction question is a 
matter of extreme moment to it. J. 
Pierpont Morgan, who is interested in 
the Pennsylvania Company in more ways 
than one, was the adviser of Mr. Bel- 
mont in the merger deal, and may, with 
propriety, be called the most prominent 
figure in it, although Mr. Belmont stands 
as the ostensible head in the public's 
view. Mr. Morgan was establishing 
syndicates when Mr. Belmont was going 
to school, and has numbers of them to 
his credit. Then there may be added 
#217,000,000 more, to represent new sub- 
ways and additional common stock. 

Bound with Golden Chains 

Greater New York is being bound in 
golden chains in every conceivable way. 
There are railways overhead, railways on 
the surface, subways underneath the 
street railroads, and tunnels below the 
subways all in the hands or under the 
control of the men who constitute the 
syndicate. In this list, also, should be 
put the bridges across the two rivers, for 
they will come into the syndicate's sys- 
tem in a practical way, no matter who 
may lay claim or title to them. The peo- 
ple own them, but this makes no differ- 

Casting up the wealth behind this syn- 
dicate, the hundreds of millions revealed 
is startling. Mr. Belmont has millions 
of his own, left him by his father, who 
represented the Rothschilds in the Unit- 
ed States during his lifetime; Mr. Mor- 
gan began his career with $10,000,000, 
and has increased it many times over, to 
say nothing of those who are willing to 
invest in any scheme he may counte- 
nance; Mr. Rogers has millions, too, for 
he represents not only Standard Oil but 
Amalgamated Copper as well; Kuhn, 
Loeb & Company is a link in the chain 
of Standard Oil banks, and is the most 
powerful house among Hebrew men of 
wealth in the United States; Thomas 
Fortune Ryan, who sold the street rail- 

roads of New York to Mr. Belmont and 
bought the Equitable Assurance Society 
from young James Hazen Hyde, 
owns as many banks, trust companies 
and other corporations as some rich 
society men have suits of clothes; then 
the Vanderbilts and all sorts of financial 
institutions are associated with the men 
who compose this syndicate, and a 
glance around and about shows millions 
upon millions nothing but millions in 
the hands of the combination which is 
now the real boss of Greater New York. 
Then there is that indefinite proposition, 
the "investing public," which will come 
in with a few millions to add to the ag- 
gregate. The "investing public" always 
comes in; this is understood, and enters 
into the.calculations of syndicates.' 

You'd 'Better Read tbe Figures 

As a rule, people detest figures, but 
in the hands of men entirely "wise" to 
the financial game they can be made to 
do anything, and with them the wily 
financier can arrive at any conclusion. 
The average man adds two and two to- 
gether and finds great difficulty in ob- 
taining any other result than four. The 
modern general of finance adds two and 
two and arrives at a total of twenty-two. 
The difference is eighteen, and this 
comes out of the pockets of the people, 
who pay the toll and say nothing. De- 
ficits are made up by tricks of handwrit- 
ing, and the only man who is worse off 
than the mere tax-paying private citizen 
is the minority stockholder, (the unit 
of the "investing public" aforesaid), 
who not only pays taxes on what is 
stolen, but suffers the loss of the good 
money he may have put into the enter- 
prise, which is run for the glory and 
profit of the financial buccaneers who 
manage it. Capitalization of water and 
the future is about to be exemplified in 
great shape in Greater New York. 

In order to give a clearer idea of what 
the control of all the traction lines in 



the metropolis means, it may be pointed 
out that single fares equal in number 
to the population of the whole world 
will be collected on the local highways 
of New York this year; by this I mean 
the surface, subway and elevated lines 
on the Island of Manhattan and as far 
north as the city limits extend beyond 
the classic Harlem. It is estimated 
for the officially complete census has 
not yet been taken that there are i ,200,- 
000,000 people inhabiting the earth, and 
that is the number of rides that will be 
sold in 1906 by the transportation com- 
panies ruled by Mr. Belmont and his 

During 1905 something more than 
1,036,000,000 people rode on the sub- 
way, elevated and surface lines, and the 
entire income was $38, 661,137. The 
operating expenses were $19,668,808, 
which left total net earnings of $18,992,- 
329. From this was subtracted what are 
known as "charges" (dividends, inter- 
est, etc., on stocks and bonds) and what 
is commonly denominated as a "sur- 
plus" of $3,262,977 remained. It wasn't 
a real surplus, however, because one 
dividend amounting to several hundred 
thousand dollars was overlooked or mis- 
laid; but it was a good enough surplus 
for the moment, and so it was allowed to 
stand. Now this surplus of $3,262,977 
happens to represent what Mr. Belmont 
and his syndicate depend upon to make 
money for them in the way of dividends 
and interest on the $445,000,000 capital- 
ization, less some slight savings in the 
way of concentration of management. 

Now, this $445,000,000 of capital is 
divided as follows: Underlying stocks 
and bonds, $220,000,000; new four and 
one-half per cent, bonds, $70,000,000; 
new five per cent, stock, $55,000,000; 
new common stock, $100,000,000. In 
the first place, from this $3,262,977 sur- 
plus of 1905 must be substracted the 
four and one-half per cent, interest on 
the $70,000,000 of bonds, amounting to 

$3,150,000, which will leave a balance ol 
$112,977; then the five per cent, divi- 
dend on the $55,000,000 of preferred 
stock is to come out of this balance 
and when taken out it leaves a deficit of 
$2,687,023. When it comes to a deficit, 
everything that follows must be added to 
it, and this is the case with the dividend 
that ought to be paid on the $100,000,000 
of common stock. If this dividend is 
put at four per cent, this would amount 
to $4,000,000 in a year, or a total of 
$6,487,023 minus. However, as the 
traffic in 1906 will be at least 175,000,000 
greater than in 1905, this will help some 
in adding to the surplus and decreasing 
the deficit, but not in a material degree, 
as it will cost something to carry the 
additional passengers. 

Capitalizing the Future 

What does this tremendous capitaliza- 
tion represent? It certainly does not 
represent the true value of the properties 
upon which it rests as so heavy a bur- 
den, nor the rights to the streets through 
which the cars pass, nor the pure air 
above on the elevated structures, nor the 
more or less vitiated atmosphere in the 
subways; neither does it represent the 
past or the present. What it really does 
represent is the future, and the hopes 
and expectations of a few ambitious 
men. But then it must be remembered 
that the same men are not risking any 
considerable portion of their own money, 
but the cash of others, and in addition to 
this they are trafficing in the credit of 
the city, which stands as sponsor for 
millions which aided in the construction 
of the present subway. 

How much of the capital of the new 
combination is what is known as 
"water?" It is merely a matter of 
standard, and Mr. Belmont would have 
one standard, while the public would 
have another. In reality, the term 
"water" means a capitalization of pros- 
pects, whether bright or not-dark The 


capitalization just created by Mr. Bel- 
mont and his associates in the syndicate 
to represent possible values in five or 
more years, is "water." In other words, 
the new company is capitalized to a 
limit yet to be reached. If the hopes 
and expectations of these men are worth 
the sum at which the $100,000,000 of 
common stock is to be "floated," then, 
of course, the stock is worth that price. 
Whether that price can be maintained 
in the market is a question for Wall 
Street to settle. 

Based on the revenue-producing ca- 
pacity of urban business in 1905, practi- 
cally all the common stock and nearly 
$50,000,000 of the five per cent, pre- 
ferred stock is "water" pure and simple. 
At the price at which the stock of the 
new company will be offered to the pub- 
lic, the "water" in it will amount, essen- 
tially to $100,000,000! This is high 
finance with a vengeance, but it has had 
its parallels in the cases of a few great 
railroad companies, much to the grief 
and sorrow of hundreds of thousands 
of real investors. The speculator who 
risked and lost doesn't count. 

Hopes of the Promoters 

What is the justification for such an 
avalanche of securities? It is the belief 
among financiers who have expressed 
themselves that the promoters of this 
combination have created them with the 
expectation that the net revenues of the 
properties will increase some $6,000,000 
per annum within a "reasonable" time, 
and without much further capital ex- 
penditure, thus wiping out the deficit. 
When the deficit is extinguished, then 
some means must be provided for the 
payment of dividends upon about $140,- 
000,000 of common and preferred stock. 
If it be true that a large working capital 
is to be provided, this, together with the 
cash on hand (amounting in all to $25,- 
000,000) will have the effect of squeez- 
ing out just that amount of "water." 

As this working capital will come from 
the pockets of the promoters, it may with 
truth be said that this is about all the 
ready money they will put into the enter- 

Upon what may the expectations that 
the revenue to the traction companies 
will shortly increase by $6,000,000 or so 
per annum be based? There are two 
factors of importance, the first being the 
natural growth of traffic in the City of 
New York, which, the experts of the 
companies agree, is about six per cent, 
a year. The net increase is lower be- 
cause the tendency is always toward in- 
creasing the number of transfers, and 
also toward a growth in long-haul traffic 
rather than the short-haul, out of which 
companies make their largest earnings. 
Clever men at figures say that it will be. 
at least five years, even at the present 
rate of growth of the city, before the net 
earnings reach the basis upon which the 
syndicate's great combination has been 

Using the City's Credit 

The second factor is the construction 
of new subways. There are to be three 
of these one for Seventh and Eighth 
avenues, one for Lexington avenue, and 
another for Third avenue and the esti- 
mated cost is $115,000,000, which means 
a real cost of $175,000,000. This war- 
rants an additional capitalization of at 
least $200,000,000, which is a low figure, 
and one upon which the syndicate can 
make money, for the reason that the 
combination can, in all probability, use 
the credit of the city, and the money 
of the city, too, in the boring and finish- 
ing of the tunnels. In such case there 
is little doubt as to the ultimate value of 
its securities. Mr. Belmont's present 
subway already is using the city's three 
and one-half per cent, borrowing rate on 
$37,000,000, largely in consequence of 
which it is enabled to pay eight per 
cent, dividends on its capitalization of 


$35,000,000. The more equities of this 
kind that are created for the combina- 
tion, the greater will be the value of its 
stock. If the traffic of the existing sub- 
way can be duplicated on the east side 
of the city with a corporation similarly 
capitalized and built at similar expense 
to the constructing company, it may be 
safe to say, or at least predict, that the 
$6,000,000 of extra revenue per annum 
necessary to eliminate the "water" from 
the syndicate's" securities will be fairly 
in sight. 

Summed up and considered from a 
financial point of view, not from the 
standpoint of the banker or conservative 
financier, but that of the daring specu- 
lator, the new traction merger is simply 
a large gamble on the future and the 
prospect (or ability) of its backers secur- 
ing the exceedingly lucrative work of 
constructing the new subways. But who 
doubts that Mr. Belmont will get these 
valuable contracts? He has notified the 
Rapid Transit Commission that he pur- 
poses to put in bids for them, and what 
power can prevent him from securing 
them? Has not Mr. Belmont a billion 
dollars behind him? He has, and money 
is most potent in this money-worshipping 
New York. Suppose some other man 
really is awarded these coveted contracts ; 
cannot Mr. Belmont buy him out? Cer- 
tainly. It is necessary that Mr. Belmont 
get them in one way or another, because 
the syndicate cannot stand competition. 

Among the most interesting features 
of this titanic combination is the fact 
that $51,000,000 of the common stock 
will control it absolutely. The bonds 
and preferred stock have no voting 
power, and the common stock amounts 
to $100,000,000. Slightly more than one- 
half of this is $51,000,000, and, saying 
that the common stock sells at sixty 
and it will not go at a higher rate than 
that then $26,000,000 will dominate the 
entire urban transportation of New York 
City. Mr. Belmont will see who gets 
this control, and who keeps it, and as 


he will be kept in power by a voting 
trust composed of his own friends, no 
rude outsider can come in and oust him 
from place. 

// May Soon Rival U. S. Steel 
It may not be long ere this $445,000,- 
ooo consolidation is swelled to a com- 
bination with a capitalization of $662,- 
000,000, composed of the original capital 
of $100,000,000 and the $200,000,000 
representing the new subways. Then Mr. 
Belmont' s organization will be second in 
size only to the United States Steel Cor- 
poration, out of which Mr. Andrew Car- 
negie got $300,000,000, and which rep- 
resents a billion and a half. When the 
Long Island traction companies come in 
this will add hundreds of millions more, 
but as they are not in just yet there is 
no need of bothering with these addi- 
tional troublesome millions. 

What makes the position of Mr. Bel- 
mont so strong is the fact that he and 
his associates have the people working 
for them, while the city itself is little 
more than an employe. 
Were the late William M. Tweed now 


living he would realize what an amateur 
and a tyro he really was. Had he capi- 
talized his ambition instead of his crimi- 
nal greed, he might have been a great 
financier. As it was, his work was coarse. 
He never explored the realm of really high 
finance, but stole openly and then asked, 
"What are you going to do about it?" 
He was a common fellow, and never 
stood a show of becoming a member of 
high financial society. His methods 
were crude, and well calculated to ex- 
cite smiles of derision in these days. 
He never sought to learn of Wall Street, 
and came to a deserved bad end. 

It is not alone the nickels of the peo- 
ple that the mighty street car syndicate 
is after. There is Wall Street, with its 
numberless devices for the manipulation 
of stocks. Prices rise and fall, and the 
"insiders" make the prices. Then there 
are the juggling of assets, the forcing of 
balances and the making of surpluses 
out of airy nothing. Wall Street has 
a new trick for every tick of the clock, 
and eagerly awaits the advent of new 
stocks to take a kick at them. 

Personality of Belmont 

Mr. Belmont is a favored child of for- 
tune. Everything has come his way 
since he was born, and he has let 
little get past him. Until he be- 
came associated with the Interborough 
Rapid Transit Company (the subway) he 

was not more than a lieutenant of finance. 
When he was elected president of this 
organization he was promoted to a cap- 
taincy, and when he took over the ele- 
vated lines and merged them with the 
subway system he became a colonel. 
In consequence of his latest strategic 
movement he has been made a general. 
His personality is neither striking nor 
impressive. In a crowd he would not 
be picked out as a leader of men. But 
he is a hard worker, has the faculty of 
concentration, and possesses marked 
business ability, although he is not 
looked upon by his associates as a 
genius. When he took hold of the sub- 
way he exhibited originality, and when 
he fought the Pennsylvania Company in 
its efforts to gain entrance into New 
York by tunneling the North River he 
showed a high grade of pluck. So hard 
a fight did he make against the burly 
Pennsylvania Company that it made 
terms with him. 

Only once in his career has he met 
with an upset. He represented the 
Rothschilds as chairman of the Louis- 
ville & Nashville railroad until one day 
John W. Gates came along, bought the 
road when Mr. Belmont wasn't look- 
ing and tossed him into the ditch. 
But Mr. Belmont is older now, keeps 
his eyes open and his wits about 
him, and it is doubtful if even the 
clever Mr. Gates could fool him again. 


By H. C. Gauss 

TWICE, daily, up to Salem's wharves, the patient tide slips in; 

It lips the thrown-down granite, it lips the spiles worn thin 
And, asking sadly at the flood, "Are there no ships today?" 
Returns, an idle current, into an idle bay. 


By Catherine Jewett 


SWEET Great-grandma looks a saint, 
With her white hair, and her quaint 
'Broidered kerchief folded down 
Primly o'er her satin gown, 

As she tells in accents low, 
Wonder tales of long ago, 
When all the men had manners fine, 
When Knighthood's flower was in its 


When maidens fair were mild and sweet, 
Modest-spoken, and discreet, 
Learned in all housewifely art, 
Clean of body, pure of heart. 
Heart alive! those maids were truel 
The men were monstrous genteel, too; 
And when with fingers lightly met 
They trod the stately minuet 

It was a picture good to see, 
Of grace and gentle dignity; 
Of manhood in its perfect prime, 
Of girlhood in its blossom time. 

Their smiling elders walked apart 
And wisely mated heart to heart. 
For children dared not say them "nay," 
Great-grandma says, in that old day. 

And yet, despite Great-grandma's word 
Another's tale I oft have heard 
About a willful little maid 
Who both her parents disobeyed; 

Who would not wed the suitor old, 
That wooing came with lands and gold, 
But rashly ran away instead 
To follow where a lover led, 

Because her foolish heart, forsooth, 
Was given to a giddy youth. 
For maids were fond, and men were bold 
Long, long ago, in days of old. 

Full many a word was whispered low 
As they went bowing to and fro, 
With hearts aflame, as warm hands met 
In many an old-time minuet. 

And she was young and passing fair, 
Too sweet a bloom for age to wear. 
Her parents wisely chose for pelf; 
She chose (the minx) to please herself. 

The wedding dress itself was made, 
A dream of silver and brocade; 
Its flashing gems, its priceless lace, 
The bodice of a queen might grace. 

The richest gifts in all the land 
The groom had brought with lavish hand. 
While eager guests, from far and near, 
Were bidden to the wedding cheer. 

Vet still the willful little bride 
Within her chamber wept and sighed 
Until she heard the glasses ring 
High o'er the riotous reveling. 

Quick then she crept across the haii, 
Swift scaled the garden's prisoning wall j 
And so the tale was all complete, 
A man, a maid, a courser fleet. 

Oh! swift they rode o'er dale and hill, 
And ever swift, and swifter still; 
While close behind, with pothering muss, 
With pistol, sword and blunderbuss, 


The gray groom followed, breathing 
And, neck and neck, her angry sire, 
While crowding on, with ribald shout, 
Rode guest, and squire, and serving lout, 

Wine-mad, to help a father bend 
A daughter's heart to his own end: 
Wine-mad, to hunt the flying pair, 
As beasts are hunted, to their lair. 



Oh! long the race, and stern the pace, 
And cruel grew the tireless chase, 
Until they reached a river wide 
With broken bridge and swollen tide. 

One swaying plank the waters spanned, 
Wild swirled the waves on either hand. 
" 'Tis death to try that dizzy way; 
Say, sweetheart, will you go or stay?" 

Her lover whispered, and the maid 
Made answer straightway, undismayed : 

"Life may divide, but death is true; 
Come life, come death, I ride with youl" 

And no pursuer dared to tread 
Where man and maid to safety sped, 
But watched them swiftly ride away 
To happiness that happy day. 

And thus it was, with shot and shout, 
Great-grandma's wedding came about; 
Great-grandma, modest, meek, and mild, 
A gentle and obedient child. 


1 1NDER normal conditions in a "live" 
boy's reading, "Robinson Crusoe" 
is invariably followed by the "Swiss 
Family Robinson." This in its turn is 
superseded by Verne's "Twenty Thou- 
sand Leagues Under the Sea" and 
"The Mysterious Island." The latter, 
which contains the essence of the gospel 
Verne preaches, prepares the way for his 
more abstruse work and for Cooper, 
Stevenson and Scott. 

Verne's thrilling plots are not used 
simply for the display of his vast fund 
of encyclopediac information. Under 
all the wealth of words lies a motif 
worthy of the best efforts of novelist, 
seer or poet. With keen insight he has 
struck the dominant note of the twen- 
tieth century, the recognition of man's 
power to control conditions, physical, 
moral and spiritual. If it is necessary 
to circle the earth in eighty days it is 
done; if a journey to the moon becomes 
essential, the means will be discovered; 
the tropics, the frozen zones, the hidden 
seas, each must yield up its wealth of 
secrets when the world-master makes his 
demand upon it; and if a casual comet 
slices off a goodly portion of our planet, 
to be at once transformed into a whirl- 
ing satellite, the" few human beings 
therewith transplanted have no difficulty 

in resolving themselves at once into an 
autocracy and organizing a new republic 
in their limited sphere. 

"The Mysterious Island" is to the 
present age what "Robinson Crusoe" 
was a hundred years ago. It cannot 
compete with its prototype in poetry, 
simplicity and naturalness, but it is a 
faithful exponent of the possibilities of 
our highly complex modern life. The 
latter-day Robinson is multiple, and 
understands clearly the conditions that 
surround him. If he needs tools he 
makes them from the native ore; he 
manufactures powder and nitro-glycer- 
ine; he distils his chemical prepara- 
tions, builds railroads and telegraph 
lines, produces cloth of good quality, 
studies astronomical and geological con- 
ditions, prepares his island for its ulti- 
mate annexation to his own republic and 
is only worsted at the last by the inter- 
vention of that power that holds the 
worlds in its hands. 

Verne believed in man, the wonder- 
fully developed man of the twentieth 
century, and most of all in the Anglo- 
Saxon race; and his whole work is a 
prophecy of man's future control of all 
material conditions. 

Sarah D. Hobart 


By H. C. Gauss 


of Castine, Maine, was one of the 
pillars of the lodge of Freemasons which 
had flourished in that ancient settlement 
since the latter part of the eighteenth 
century. Mrs. Captain Ebenezer Perkins 
was not wholly pleased that several even- 
ings out of the captain's too-brief so- 
journs ashore were spent in the company 
of the fellow-craftsmen, but her plaints 
were ignored, as the plaints of many 
other other spouses have been ignored, 
and in the symposiums which followed 
the lodge meetings there were various 
comforting beverages set forth which 
were based on direct importation by the 
captain, who had the lodge meetings in 
memory in whatever part of the world 
he might happen to be. 

The handful of home-staying brethren 
who kept up the lodge while the majority 
of its membership roamed the navigable 
waters of the globe were not without 
recompense. There was scarcely a meet- 
ing but some brother told of queer lodge 
meetings in queer places or of Masonry 
under the most magnificent of old-world 
auspices. One had filled a chair when 
half a dozen, speaking four different lan- 
guages, had exemplified the degrees in 
a savage's hut on a far Tahitian shore. 
Another had visited an English-speaking 
lodge which held its meeting in a Hindu 
temple surrounded by the symbolism of 
the world's oldest civilization. But 
the most frequent narrator of special 
Masonic experiences was Captain Eben- 
ezer. Wherever he went he sought out 
Masonic experiences with enthusiasm. 
In Havana, in London, or in Hong 

Kong first leisure was devoted to 
the development of brother Masons. 
Naturally, the captain had the hailing 
sign out with much frequency, perhaps 
so much so that it became a more or 
less habitual gesture, and no Mason who 
came much into the captain's society 
could remain long in ignorance that 
Captain Ebenezer Perkins was a brother 
and anxious to be regarded as such. 

In the year 1820, the Castine lodge, 
which had been ousted from its lodge 
room by the British during the consider- 
able British occupancy of the town as 
a result of the War of 1812, was in a 
flourishing condition. Its regalia and 
paraphernalia was all brought from 
abroad and was complete in every par- 
ticular. The symbols which adorned the 
walls of its place of mystic rites were 
of no mean drawing, and no matter 
where Captain Ebenezer might go, he 
was never shamed to remember the little 
lodge room at home, as correct in its 
appurtenances as the most pretentious. 
In the early part of 1820 Captain Eben- 
ezer sailed from Castine with lumber, 
fish and an assorted cargo for St. lago 
de Cuba, the Santiago of 1898, and a 
rare hole for rum and rascals, as every 
Yankee skipper of the early days knew. 
What was planned and begun at San- 
tiago was consummated on the quay at 
Havana. If the Yankees got three 
prices for their commodities and drove 
shrewd bargains for return cargoes, the 
Spanish merchants sometimes settled 
the account to their own advantage by 
having an interest in the piratical 
schooner that took the Yankee ship 


and sold the vessel and cargo through 
a broker at Havana. 

Captain Perkins liked to go to San- 
tiago; faith, it's no bad place to go now, 
in the right time of year. Once slipped 
through the preposterously narrow en- 
trance, where the old Morro presents its 
anachonistic front, Captain Perkins 
was relieved from any of the mariner's 
worries. His vessel was nearly as safe 
from chance of storm or wreck in that 
wholly enclosed harbor as if he had been 
able to lock her up in a cupboard at 
home. He exchanged the seaman's 
troubles for the merchant's worries, but 
after the day's business was over he 
might sit out in the sprinkled, flower- 
scented plaza, drinking a combination of 
rum and lime juice, which is one of the 
Santiago characteristics, and watch the 
girls go to evening service in the whitey- 
brown cathedral across the plaza, or he 
might go to Masonic lodge meeting, 
where he would meet as many queer 
Masonic fish as in almost any other 
iodge in the world. 

With a sigh, which was one of relief 
as well as one of regret, Captain Perkins 
rippled out of Santiago harbor before the 
perfumed breeze of a morning in May. 
Instead of having to load for home with 
molasses, as he had feared, he had been 
able to get together a cargo of coffee, 
pimento, sugar and other commodities, 
good, at the least calculation, for a profit 
of ten thousand dollars, hard money, 
when landed in Boston. But Santiago 
had never been pleasanter or congenial 
company more plentiful. Captain Eben- 
ezer had been able to add to his busi- 
ness Spanish very many phrases which 
had nothing at all to do with commercial 
transactions. He even hummed a little 
Spanish song as he passed out by the 
Morro, a song which in its most expur- 
gated form would have thrilled Castine 
with horror. The song was a reminis- 
cence of a scene of festivity to which he 
had been introduced by a Masonic ac- 
quaintance. To learn the verses line by 

line was not an unpleasant task for the 
Yankee seafarer, and he was naively un- 
scious of the full meaning. He took the 
shouts of laughter that had greeted the 
song as a tribute to his talents as an en- 
tertainer, and was only vaguely puzzled 
to find that his fair instructress had dis- 
appeared when he had, against her pro- 
tests, insisted on exhibiting his new 

As he set the course of the Camden 
along the south shore of Cuba, however, 
and her nose began to point the way 
back to New England, he began to think 
of old Castine, and there was no more 
singing of Spanish ditties. He gruffly 
ordered the grinning helmsman to shut 
his face and stumped off below to get his 

Twenty-four hours later he was setting 
every inch of canvas and sozzling his 
sails with salt water in a vain attempt to 
run away from a topsail schooner that 
was swinging up and outsailing and out- 
pointing him without apparent effort on 
the part of its crew. The pirate caught 
him well out of sight of land and of any 
other sail, and ranging up along the wind- 
ward side, grappled the Camden with 
delicate seamanship and poured a dozen 
brown rascals over on the deck of the 
Yankee vessel. One of these scienti- 
fically kicked the man at the wheel sev- 
eral feet forward and brought the Cam- 
den up into the wind, while others let the 
halliard go with a run. In five minutes 
the Camden was towing along easily be- 
side the pirate, the hatches were off and 
the precious cargo was being shifted into 
the hold of the buccaneer. Even Cap- 
tain Ebenezer Perkins, sweating and hot 
with rage, helped in the transfer, under 
the ungentle urging of the captors. 

Today it is as impossible to be a suc- 
cessful sea pirate as it is to lead an army 
to victory clad in chain mail and bearing 
a lance, and it seems incredible that it 
was quite easy in the first half of the 
nineteenth century to board a vessel fly- 
ing the flag of the United States, to sub- 



due the erew with numbers and force of 
arms and take her cargo out, then set 
her adrift with flames running along her 
decks and up her shrouds. There were 
several parts of the world where this was 
possible, but none where it was so nearly 
probable as in the waters around Cuba, 
and especially in those waters from which 
a quick run could be made to Havana. 
The files of newspapers for the first quar- 
ter of the nineteenth century contain fre- 
quent paragraphs like the following: 

captain and crew of the brig Sally, who have 
just landed in Charleston, report that their 
vessel was taken from them by pirates who 
removed the cargo and burned the vessel. 
The crew, after being ill treated and robbed, 
were set adrift in an open boat from which 
they were rescued by the schooner Enter- 

captain- of the snow Good Hope, which has 
just arrived in Boston, reports that he was 
boarded by pirates who, finding the cargo of 
little value, took the captain's watch and 
money and deprived the crew of their clothes 
and valuables. Upon the captain protesting 
against the robbery he was struck on the 
head with a cutlass and left for dead. One 
of the crew who offered resistance was 
stabbed and thrown overboard. The pirates 
left the vessel after doing much wanton dam- 
age to the sails and rigging. The captain, 
recovering from unconsciousness, was able to 
bring the snow to Boston. 

Among such paragraphs may be found 
the short and succinct annal of the fate 
of the Camden. The cargo transferred, 
piles of inflammables were set on fire in 
different parts of the hull. As the pirate 
sheered off, the Camden was burning 
briskly and in the bright southern sun- 
shine was not so much of a tell-tale 
beacon but that the pirate could get out 
of the way in a few hours of smart sail- 

Captain Ebenezer Perkins, hand-free, 
but with legs confined in a long bar- 
shackle which had probably been a-slav- 

ing and might go again, contemplated 
the condition of his own cargo in the 
hold of another's vessel, and swore flu- 
ently. The Spanish schooner was heel- 
ing smartly and making excellent speed 
with her load. The Yankee crew was 
stowed amidships under the weather bul- 
warks and with a bit of an awning. They 
had been accommodated with something 
to eat and drink by the pirates, who were 
feeling the virtuous good humor of the 
successful. The pirate captain seemed 
to enjoy Captain Perkins' profanity, 
even. "Hey, feel damn bad, eh? No 
bueno feel bad. Send good place, damn 
quick." And with an expressive ges- 
ture to the sky, the pirate went aft with 
what Captain Perkins could not but feel 
was a diabolical grin. 

"Now they ain't no use givin' this 
thing up," said the captain to his next 
shackle-mate, who happened to be the 
steersman erstwhile so vigorously kicked, 
and who was inclined to be low-spirited, 
"mebbe I kin find a Mason around here, 
an' I'll bet you" 

As a matter of fact, except during the 
time when the pirates had the cap- 
tain on the run, he had kept a signal of 
distress going at an apparently unrecep- 
tive world. But just at this point the 
pirate who was second in command on 
the schooner came up and stooped over 
as if to examine the shackles. To the 
captain's delirious delight, the piratical 
fingers formed themselves into a hailing 
sign, and a Masonic wigwag followed, 
ending in a furtive grasp of the hand. 
"Dese all Masons?" queried he in a 

All Masons? Well, would Captain 
Ebenezer Perkins sail out of Castine 
with any other kind of a crew over the 
square and compass painted on the stern 
of the old Camden? Masons, yessiree, 
some of them past masters, and signs 
and tokens went up and down that 
shackled line with all the fervor 
of a dig-out from a bad position. 
"Fear notting, brodders/' said the 


pirate, dramatically, and he strode aft. 

That which followed occurred in floods 
of Spanish, of which the prisoners could 
make out but little in the jangle of con- 
versation. The gestures were sufficiently 
revealing, and they followed their for- 
tunes with sinking and rising hearts until 
the dramatic denouement. 

First the mate, gracefully tripping aft, 
threw himself metaphorically at the feet 
of his commanding officer. "Lo, senor 
capitan, the Isle of Pines. It is suffi- 
ciently retired and lonesome at this part. 
Shall we not set these accursed Yankees 
ashore? When they reach Havana, if 
at all, there will be nothing to harm." 

"Sacred thunders of the Eternal 1" (so 
expresses himself the captain pirate.) 
"Is it that thou are mad, my Diego? 
Hast thou a wish to hang? SHoot, stab 
and then into the sea !' ' 

"But no, my captain, this is er my 
name day. All Yankees should die, but 
I have a disrelish for this day see, I 
implore thee. These for the shore!" 

The captain thunders a negative and 
strides aft. But there is an appeal from 
him, it seems. The mate calls loudly 
and the crew come running to the quar- 
ter-deck. There they stand in a chatter- 
ing, gesticulating group while the mate 
harangues them, the captain harangues 
them. Some look at the prisoners, some 
look at the mate, who is doing something 
with his fingers. One passes little pel- 
lets or beans of some sort among the 
crew and presently gathers them up and 
exhibits them to the captain and the 
mate, who appear to pick them out, one 
choosing one kind, one the other. The 
mate comes to the break of the trunk and 
shows his hand, nine beans of white. 
The captain shows black beans, how 
many? Again nine. A tie between 
murdering and marooning. 

More haranguing, more chattering, 
more gesticulating, but two parties form 
and divide against each other with per- 
haps the show of a knife at intervals. 
The vote is taken again and it is nine 

to nine. The mate is seen to smile 
sarcastically at his commanding officer 
and to make an apparently and purposely 
irritating remark. 

Ah, foolish captain of the pirate, with 
thy black-bearded, burly bulk! It was 
not wise to have despised the slim mate 
with sinews like steel wire; to have at- 
temped to seize and break that slender 
wrist which was the neck of the serpent 
hand with its eight-inch fang! Thy 
Diego had been waiting the provocation 
of such a coarse insult as that of thy 
rejoinder to his pleasantry, and had 
planned the thrust which should make 
him master of this quick - sailing 
schooner. Now thou liest on thy back, 
oh, burly captain, thy ashen gray face 
bears a look of surprise and the Yankee 
prisoners will be landed on the Isle of 
Pines in spite of thy thundering "No." 

The remains of the late captain of the 
pirate schooner had hardly been removed 
from the deck before the new captain 
bowed his late captives politely over the 
side. He pressed a box of cigars and 
a bottle of rum on Captain Ebenezer 
Perkins and politely failed to hear the 
request that some provisions and water 
should go along with them. He was 
quite too much of a gentleman to point 
out Captain Perkins* mistake in suppos- 
ing that there was an overplus of pro- 
visions aboard and that sea-stores, cost- 
ing good money, were to be wasted 
on Yankees. 

As a matter of fact, the week's sojourn 
of the crew of the Camden on the Isle of 
Pines was largely in the nature of a pic- 
nic. Easily gathered fruits and shell- 
fish and easily caught fish and birds 
were feeding the crew fat and there were 
but remains of the New England energy 
when, a week later, a small schooner an- 
chored off the place where the Camden' s 
crew lay, marooned but happy. It was 
Captain Perkins who made signals to 
attract the stranger, and the signals were 
unheeded. There was some languid dis- 
cussion as to what should be done, but 


it was inconclusive, and they would have 
gone to sleep again under their shelter of 
boughs but for Captain Perkins' insis- 

Finally it was agreed that the cabin 
boy should swim off to the little schooner 
and call attention to the condition ashore. 
The boy had been spending most of the 
time in the water, but objected that to 
swim because he had to, was work. One 
of the crew threatened to kick him and 
the captain promised him a Spanish dol- 
lar when they got to Havana, so, accom- 
panied by the dog, the midshipmite 
swam off and made the necessary nego- 
tiations for a passage. 

Captain Ebenezer was "biling," as 
they say in New England, when he 
reached Havana, tense with indignation 
at his crew, who had developed the 
"manana" habit to the full, and speech- 
less with rage at the loss of a good 
vessel and a fine cargo. He set full sail 
for the consul's office the moment he got 
his foot on shore, but stopped on the 
quay for unnecessary fuel to his wrath. 
Laying there in course of shipment for 
Spain were the very packages, bearing 
his mark, which had been under the 
hatches of the Camden when she sailed 
out of Santiago. 

He sputtered it all out to the consu 1 , 
who heard it as if it had been a twice- 
told tale. He sympathized with Captain 
Ebenezer and then detailed the course 
of Spanish procedure in such cases. 
Briefly, it would cost something like 
a tenth of the value of the cargo to get 
the matter on foot at all, with the reason- 
able certainty that it would join a dozen 
other cases in some judicial pigeonhole. 
Meanwhile the goods would be away 
to Spain, the perpetrators gone, who 
knew where? and, lastly, Captain Eben- 
ezer stood a good chance of waking up 
in the hereafter if he showed out in 
Havana after nightfall with such a case 
pending. The captain did not relish 
the idea of his astral shape looking 
down on his physical body lying in some 

dark corner with a knife between the 
ribs, and he hauled up and made as 
short a course for Castine as possible. 

Some months later, Captain Perkins, 
then superintending the lading of a 
brand-new ship at Boston, heard some 
news. His just resentment was gratified 
to learn that the pirate vessel which had 
taken the Camden had been captured, 
and that the crew, including his old 
friend Diego, were in durance vile at 
Charleston in South Carolina. He found 
himself also with natural feelings of 
regret and sorrow, for Diego, a Mason 
and a brother, had certainly saved his 
life. But vexation followed all when he 
realized that he had been summoned to 
Charleston as a witness and that he must 
defer for the present his hopes of re- 
couping the Camden loss. He couldn't, 
under any decent feelings of gratitude, 
contribute to the hanging of the man 
who had saved his life, and he wouldn't 
miss the profit in the voyage impending, 
that was flat. His owners put the con- 
sideration of gratitude forward promi- 
nently and minimized the other. The 
dramatics of the situation appealed forci- 
bly to the great Webster, and the attor- 
ney-general's office released Captain Per- 
kins from appearing at the trial, the 
more willingly that it decreased the ex- 
penses of the case. 

They tried to explain it to Diego, for- 
merly mate, but later the rash and unsuc- 
cessful pirate captain who had essayed 
to capture a United States brig of war 
in the darkness, mistaking her for the 
brig he had been chasing at nightfall. 
Diego understood the hundred dollars in 
gold that the messenger brought much 
better and wisely chose to spend it in 
comfortable things of life rather than to 
waste it on legal advice. He did try to 
bribe his way out with part of it, and 
explained the indignation of the United 
States deputy marshal by telling himself 
that the official was a more important and 
higher-priced officer than he supposed. 

In the end Diego was hanged, for he 


was a very flagrant rascal indeed, while 
Captain Ebenezer Perkins sailed the seas 
and got rich enough to satisfy the moder- 
ate Castine standard. He ended his days 
in a three-story brick house in Portland, 
from which he sailed every other 

Wednesday evening, as loug as & 
could navigate, to attend the meet- 
ing of the blue lodge, where he was 
called on, whenever there was a 
visitation, to tell the story of the 
pirate who was truly a brother. 


WHEN the first Governor Yates of 
Illinois made his call for the vet- 
erans of the Mexican war to aid in sup- 
pressing the rebellion in the South, 
among the first to respond was Ulysses 
S. Grant. His offer to head a company 
was accepted at once by the governor, 
who with the first glance had recognized 
the ability and strength of character of 
"the Silent Man." On leaving the State 
House, Grant was confronted by what 
seemed an insurmountable difficulty, 
He was a poor man ; worse that that, he 
was a man without much credit. His 
own family regarded him in the light of 
a "black sheep." It had been a hard 
matter to raise the necessary means to 
make his visit to the capitol. Now that 
his services had been accepted, the ques- 
tion of how he should obtain the money 
to purchase the uniform and sword faced 
him. He held an inferior position in the 
leather and hide store of his father in 
Galena, Illinois, and the salary was 
small, so small that it had been a difficult 
matter to care for his household. All the 
way from Springfield to Galena he turned 
the matter over in his mind, seeing no 
way by which he could raise the needed 

His father had long been out of 
patience with him and looked on him 
with anything but kindly eyes. To ask 
a loan from him seemed impossible. 
But patriotism overruled pride, and 
immediately on reaching home he 
went to his father and asked for a 
loan. The reply was a gruff denial 

As he left the office, where the inter- 
view had been held, he came face to face 
with Mr, Collins, his father's partner 
Mr. Collins had strong southern pro- 
clivities and was looked upon in many 
quarters as an incipient "copperhead" 
whose companionship it was well to 
avoid. He noticed the dejected appear- 
ance of the younger Grant and calling 
him aside asked what was the matter. It 
took only a few words to tell the story, 
Mr. Collins listened in silence, and 
when he had finished, said: "Look here, 
Ulysses, I'll lend you the money." 
j Knowing the intense sympathy Mr- 
Collins had with the South, Grant could 
hardly believe his ears. Before he could 
reply, his father came out and, hearing 
Mr. Collins' offer, said angrily: & 

"Remember, Collins, if you loan him 
that money you do it on your own re- 
sponsibility. I will not pay you a cent." 

Mr. Collins smiled, and taking Ulysses 
by the arm led him away from the neigh- 
borhood of his irate parent and repeated 
his offer. It was accepted with gratitude 
and when Grant entered the service at 
the head of his company, the handsome 
uniform and sword he sported had been 
supplied by the Confederate sympathizer. 
Mr. Collins, who told the story himself 
to the writer, laughed in a half-sorrowful 
way as he said that through this act of 
kindness he had armed "the Man of Des- 
tiny" and been the unconscious instru- 
ment by which the southern cause had 

been lost. 

/. A. 'Dobson 



By Yone Noguchi 

Author of "Japan of Sword and Love," "From the Eastern Sea," etc. 


MARQUIS ITO'S wonderfully lum- 
inous eyes sparkled with joy. His 
voice was sweetly charming. Yes, as 
someone said, there is no age in his 
eyes nor in his voice. He is eternally 
young. And, at the same time, God only 
only knows how old he is. Yes, he 
must be a thousand years old, since in 
fact he made modern Japan and still is 
carrying Japan on his broad shoulders 
(By the way, he is hardly over five feet 
high.) A certain young Japanese states- 
man wrote of him: "He is the present 
and the future of our country personified 
in one individual; and in spite of all the 
attacks of party politics, he is still the 
man to whom all turn their eyes when- 
ever the country is in trouble, whether 
he be in or out of office.' ' In power or 
out of power, leading a cabinet or in 
retirement at his villa of Oiso, Marquis 
Ito is always the guiding voice of the 
nation. The formation of a new non-Ito 
cabinet is always preceded by a veritable 
procession of prospective cabinet-makers 
to visit the marquis at Oiso. Up to the 
present, ever since the first cabinet was 

formed, Marquis Ito has been the vir- 
tual prime minister of Japan. He was 
actual prime minister more times than 
any other living statesman, four times in 
fact. The people of Japan, from the 
highest to the lowest, have confidence in 
him, their leader, and although some- 
times those irresponsible newspapers 
attack him quite bitterly, no crisis can 
arise without the whole nation turning 
to him as one man for guidance and 

Surely many Americans must remem- 
ber what President Hadley of Yale said 
when he conferred an honorable degree 
upon him. Yes, he said that the Mar- 
quis, the greatest man of Japan, and 
one of the great men of the world was 
one of the greatest four living men. 
(The ever so graceful president left us 
in a fog, however, not mentioning who 
were the others.) Perhaps Marquis Ito 
might be called the Japanese Bismarck. 
Or he may be the Japanese Napoleon. 
But there arc no Westerners by whose 
achievements he can be measured. His 
work stands out unique in the world's 


history, as Japan's growth is alone in a 
class by itself. Truly most nations are 
content to become great in hundreds of 
years. But Japan has risen from noth- 
ing, as it is said in Occidental countries, 
and in thirty-odd years has become one 
of the foremost countries of the world. 
And Marquis Ito has been the principal 
figure and worker in this marvelous, this 
unprecedented national transformation. 
To no other man in this world has it 
been given to look back from the middle 
age of sixty years and see such a life's 
work lying behind him. What miracles 
he has seen and brought about since his 
birth in September, 1841! It was when 
he was a man of a little over forty that 
he drew up a constitution for Japan, and 
changed an absolute monarchy into a 
constitutional one. He did it as easily 
as he changed the thongs of his wooden 

And he did another diplomatic wonder 
in winning Korea over to the new agree- 
ment, that is to say, inviting Korea to 
hand her diplomatic affairs into Japan's 
hand. He did it most quietly, as is his 
custom. He goes to meet any crisis with 
a smile and peace in mind. He is most 
wonderfully self-collected. He is the 
apostle of peace. The Japanese chau- 
vinists denounce his weakness in policy 
and action. Not weak is he, but well- 
balanced in mind. His first and last 
care in managing the nation is to act 
under the wings of peace. It is credit- 
ably said that he at first opposed the 
Russia-Japan war. That is not to mean 
that he is unpatriotic. The great patriot 
is he. His action toward Korea is not 
Japan's successful step in aggression. 
He sincerely assured Korea that her 
diplomatic rights should be restored 
when she should find herself strong 
enough to preserve her independence. 
Again I say he is the man of peace. So 
tell his sparkling eyes, and also his 
sweet voice. 

Yesterday, (6th. December, 1905), he 
returned from Seoul to his Oiso, where 

Mount Fuji, the white paradise set in 
the quickening air, sings beauty and 
truth. It was already whispered that he 
had composed a Chinese poem on the 
way back. Remember, he is no mean 
poet in the Chinese language, and he is 
a great scholar before being a great 
statesman. The lines ran thus : 

"Though old, I dare try to save ten thousand 

The new alliance will put firm these two 

kingdoms in neighborhood : 
It is now thirty days since my farewell to the 

Holy Mount: 
And here she welcomes me from the sky, 

opening her smiling face." 

(The translation of course fails to 
render the beauty of phraselogy of the 
Chinese original. A thousand apologies 
to Marquis Ito!) 

Let us celebrate his sixty-fifth anniver- 

Here is the story of how he celebrated 
his birthday in Korea. It was on his 
shooting trip that he stopped on a coun- 
try road to light his cigar. (By the way, 
he is a great smoker.) A gray-haired 
Korean farmer approached him with 
the customary three-foot-long tobacco 
pipe and asked for a light. "How old 
are you?" asked the marquis. "Sixty- 
five, sir." "Strange coincidence, I am 
just the same age as you. Doubtless you 
have many grandsons, I presume." 
"Yes, two I have." "Only two?" the 
marquis said; "I am happy to say I 
have seven. Are you rich, my friend?" 
"Yes, rich in health. I work hard, as 

you see. 

'Rich in health," the mar- 

quis murmured, "yes, there's nothing 
better than that." And he flung a ten- 
yen note to him, saying: "Here's to 
your health and long life!" I am sure 
that in his heart he was celebrating his 
own sixty-fifth. 

It was on the thirteenth of March, 
1905, when I went to see him. It was 
right after the successful occupation of 
Mukden, and when we were feverishly 
shouting "Another great victory 1 Isn't 



it glorious?" When I entered the Soro 
Kaku, "The Green Billow Villa," the 
school children of the Oiso village passed 
before it, shouting "Banzai" for the 
marquis and the Mukden victory. 

"Poor Russia 1 Must she act like a 
gambler who has started a 'bluff' game, 
and cannot throw up his own cards, but 
must continue to raise the stake?" I 
said, and looked up to the marquis 
across the luncheon table. 

I was invited to his luncheon. 

I had invaded his Oiso villa since 
morning. The villa is not a fittingly 
elegant affair for a gentleman of his 
station, being only delightful and com- 
fortable. In common with most of the 
wealthy Japanese, he has two houses, 
one European, and the other Japanese. 
Is he rich? There's no Japanese states- 
man more free about money than he. 
His purse is eternally open. The houses 
stand among the pine trees. Did you 
ever see the Japanese pine trees? What 
agelessness in their green colorl They 
have eternal youth ! And what ageless- 
ness in their fantastic shape! What a 
melodiously great song of the billows you 
hear from his house. The houses stand 
by the sea. He loves surely the pine 
trees and sea above everything, since he 
hurries back from Tokyo when his offi- 
cial work is done. Yes, what ageless- 
ness also in the song and color of the 
sea. Certainly he must find the great 
secret of being eternally youthful in 
Nature, especially in the sea and pine 
trees. So the mystery of his being ever 
so fresh and young is explained. In his 
private life he is a philosopher and a 
poet. His knowledge of the Chinese 
literature (and he is one of the best- 
informed authorities upon the general 
Chinese question) and also of English 
books, is said to be boundless. His 
library is a great one, full of the old 
Chinese classics and of the newest books 
from America and from Europe. The 
Chinese books are valuable because they 
are old, and the English since they are 

new. He speaks English perfectly. He 
made his way by a sailing vessel to 
-England to study in 1863, when he was 
a mere boy, accompanied by the present 
Count Inouye. On his return he was 
able to do yeoman service to the country 
in her troubles with the foreign nations 
just about the time of the bombardment 
of Shimonoseki. Then, though very 
young, he was the real representative of 
Japan in treating with the foreign minis- 

We the marquis and I alone are at 
the luncheon table. What a delightful 
chance to eat among the pine trees, by 
the sea, especially listening to his talk. 
His talk never hurries but glides down 
calmly like a great river. What melody 
in his voice! The air is sweet and the 
whole amosphere is superb. Two beau- 
tiful young girls, perhaps sixteen or 
seventeen, wait upon us, noiselessly and 
gracefully. (By the way, he is ever so 
loyal to Japanese women.) Now we 
finished the plate of raw fishes. It 
would be silly to live by the sea if you 
don't taste the raw fishes. What a re- 
freshing taste in them! The table was 
covered with the divinely white table- 
cloth, and had several flower-pots upon 
it. Behind us the golden screens stood. 

To hear the reminiscences of his busy 
life is to hear the whole history of 
modern Japan. After the Great Restor- 
ation he was appointed governor of the 
Prefecture of Hyago, in May, 1868. He 
received this post because of the estab- 
lishment of the foreign port of Kobe, 
close to the town of Hyogo, it being 
already recognized that Ito, young as he 
was then, was best fitted to hold inter- 
course with foreigners. In 1869 it was 
found necessary, for the good of the gov- 
ernment, to appoint him as under vice- 
minister of finance, and in 1870 he went 
to America to study the monetary sys- 
tem, and spent nearly twelve months 
there. After his return his official pro- 
gress was very rapid. In 1873 he was 
a member of the cabinet, holding the 



portfolio 01 public works, and in 2885 
Marquis Ito formed the first Ito cabinet, 
which was in office for three years. He 
participated in the next cabinet by spe- 
cial order of the emperor. During these 
later years he has held many other offices, 
such as president of the privy council, of 
the house of peers, and has received the 
rank of count. In 1892 he formed his 
second cabinet, and remained in office 
until 1896, after the conclusion of the 
Chinese war. For his distinguished ser- 
vices to the state in this war he was 
raised to the rank of marquis. In 1898 
the marquis formed his third, and in 
1900 his fourth cabinet, both of which 
held office for only a few months. And 
today he is president of the privy 

And he has also frequently been de- 
spatched in the service of his country to 
foreign lands on special missions. In 
1871 he made his first official visit to 
Europe and America in the suite of 
Prince Iwakura. His most important 
mission, however, was that of investi- 
gation and organization for the framing 
of the constitution in 1882. During this 
mission he represented Japan at the 
coronation of Czar Alexander III of 
Russia. In 1885 Marquis (then count) 
Ito went to China to settle the Korean 
problem, and in 1897 he accompanied 
H. I. H. Prince Arisugawa to the Dia- 
mond Jubilee of Queen Victoria. It 
was on his fifth visit to America that he 
stopped at Yale to receive the honorable 
degree. He was received everywhere 
as the representative of Japan rather 
than as the private traveler. The czar 
received him in special audience, and 
Count Lamsdorff gave a ministerial ban- 
quet in his honor. In Russia, in Ger- 
many and Italy he received the highest 
decorations. In Potsdam the kaiser 
gave the marquis a banquet. From Ger- 
many he proceeded to Brussels for rest 
and recreation, and when he arrived in 
London, in December, the foreign minis- 
ter of England begged him to come up 

to his country place and join his hunting 
party. The king was most anxious for 
him to come to Sandringham to receive 
the decoration of the G. C. B. His 
friendship with the king is said to be 

How enthusiastic he is whenever he 
comes to touch upon the American sub- 
ject! He will tell you how grateful he 
is to General Grant, under whose admin- 
istration he studied the monetary system, 
"He treated me as one of the American 
officers, and gave me every advantage,' ' 
he says. He will tell you with glee how 
he attended the wedding ceremony of 
James Field, the railroad king, on his 
way to England in 1897 (for the diamond 
jubilee of Queen Victoria.) His recep- 
tion at Seattle and Chicago he will re- 
member forever. "New York is per- 
fectly great," he is ready to exclaim. It 
is interesting to listen to his story of 
how he crossed the continent in a palace 
car. He is always quick to declare that 
President Roosevelt is one of the great- 
est men he ever met. 

"President Roosevelt," the marquis 
said to me, "once told me that Presi- 
dent McKinley underwent some change 
in his opinions after he became 
president. So President Roosevelt 
will, too. But his own character will 
never be changed. It is too strong for 
that. He is one of the wonders of the 
world; he might be classed with Cham- 
berlain of England and the kaiser. What 
he is doing for America is the just and 
proper thing, since the world will not 
permit Amercia to stand alone and iso- 
lated. On the contrary, America must 
take a leadership in the world's affairs s 
and she must push out her own power. 
America is safe upon the president's 
rough and broad shoulders. His Ameri- 
canism is founded upon honesty and fair 
dealing. There's no enemy to Ameri- 
canism, bright like sunshine, strong like 
iron plate. And what a fortune to have 
Mr. HayJ He is the best diplomat 
in the world. How careful, and how 



vigorous I What a scholar he isl And 
above all, what a gentlemanly gentle- 
man. He will lead Americans always to 
the sunlight and to the front of nations. 
(Mr. Hay passed away soon after that, 
to the world's grief.) 

"Tell for me to the Americans that 
we are grateful to America and the 
Americans for their sincere sympathies. 
At this moment we need them most. 

"Suppose they have no special sym- 
pathy with Japan. Still they should take 
sides with Japan for their own interests 
in the far East. Happily they have been 
looking upon Japan and the present war 
with their best sympathies. It makes a 
vast difference. We Japanese must re- 
gard the Americans as the masters and 
fathers. We learned almost everything 
from America. " 

"Dear Marquis," said I, "I received 
many letters from American editors and 
from my own friends asking what Japan 
will demand. They are sincerely afraid 
that the so-called Japanese extremists 
(Dr. Tomizu and his party) might in- 
fluence the government, and make it 
entertain their nightmare." 

"Japan's final demand will be moder- 
ate," the marquis said. " 'Open door' 
and equal benefit in Manchuria will be 
assured. Our policy will not be even 
one step from them. We Japanese must 
come to a proper understanding of 
American 'push' and enterprise. We 
mustn't dream only of monopoly com- 
mercial and political. Not only in Man- 
churia, even also in Korea, we mustn't 
forget that we are fighting with Russia 
for righteousness and equal opportunities. 
The world's sympathies will die out im- 
mediately if we Japanese run even one 
step astray. Japan is the country of 
truth and fairness. And we must re- 
member that we are fighting for the 
world's benefit, not only for our own." 

"I thank you, dear Marquis, for your 
own assurance Your words are author- 

(And what he believed and professed 
came to be the fact at Portsmouth.) 

We talked about poetry and literature. 
He is at home upon these subjects. He 
is an authority on Chinese poetry, as I 
have said again and again. 

He is the mysterious combination of 
Oriental and Occidental. There is no 
Japanese whose mind is more Occidental 
than his. After all, the best Orientialism 
is nothing but the best Occidentalism, 
and the world is round, and West is East. 
He taught Japan how to remain Japanese 
while adopting Western civilization. It 
was he that induced the samurai and 
nobles to cut off their topknot, lay aside 
their two swords, and conform to Occi- 
dental ideas. And at the same time . he 
attempted to preserve all the old samurai 
spirit for the work of national develop- 
ment, and it is this spirit which has 
made possible the new Japan of today. 
He is the man who is holding the Eng- 
lish book in his right hand, while his 
left carries the Japanese book of poems. 

I begged him to give me a few words 
in his penmanship to adorn my coming 
book in Japan. (He is an eminent 
writer of the Chinese characters.) Glad- 
ly he granted my wishes. He is eter- 
nally ready to help us the younger people. 
His heart is young and young. 

The sun began to fall. 

I left the marquis and his villa, and 
mingled among the school-children to 
shout "Banzai." 

Today the Tokyo papers are talking of 
his possible new cabinet, and the present 
prime minister will find his work too 
heavy for his shoulders, doubtless. And 
it is quite possible that Marquis Ito 
would not shrink from it, and he will 
carry the affair quite easily, as he always 
does. And he will never become an old 

The whole world can rest assured while 
his wonderfully glowing eyes sparkle 
with joy. He is the statesman of smile 
and peace. So he will be always. 


By Rhoda Cameron 

VOU can't reform the world, my 

The speaker was a serene, cameo-faced 
woman of thirty-five. 

"I know it. I am not great, nor in- 
clined. All the same, I shall insist, 
where my own life is concerned." 

"You shouldn't have married," said 
the first, looking up composedly. 

Mrs. Penfield glanced at the cameo 
face and a hasty contempt flushed her 

"Do you mean to tell me," she chal- 
lenged, "that if you knew your husband 
were unfaithful to you, it would make no 

"I would never know," said Mrs. Visor 
with a small smile. Then with a flash 
of challenge in her own eyes: "What is 
the good of being ridiculous, or com- 
mon? Men are all alike." 

Mrs. Penfield said nothing. She had 
heard that before. She rocked. 

"Of course," Mrs. Visor said corn- 
promisingly, "some are worse than 
others. Your husband may be an ex- 
ception." A negligent pity sounded in 
the acquiescence. 

Mrs. Penfield rocked. 

Her mind ran over her list of acquaint- 
ances. There was Mrs. A., so self-sat- 
isfied, so poised in her own conceit; a 
good wife, too, who glanced out of the 
corner of her eye when Mr. A. per- 
formed extravagant courtesies for her, 
as who should say: "Did you ever see 
such devotion? A little out of place in 
public, I know, but fit to make you mad 
with envy, all the same." And yet 
everyone knew Mr. A was simply jolly- 
ing her. 

There was Mrs. U. , happy in the so- 
ciety of her husband and her dearest 
friend. All the world perceived how she 

was hoodwinked by them both; made 
a fool of, mocked ! 

There was Mrs. W., oh, could it be 
that every woman had only the thin 
shield of conceit or faith to interpose be- 
tween herself and unhappiness or degra- 
dation? "Not my husband." Wasitnot 
what every wife said? She had even 
smiled to hear some of them, the hus- 
bands being so patent to all the world 
beside. She might be smiled at in the 
same manner, herself. According to Mrs. 
Visor, she was. 

And if it were an universal condition, 
the remedy? She looked at Mrs. Visor. 
To feign ignorance, to accept hypocrisy, 
to be a hypocrite oneself. And to remain 
serene, smooth-faced ; to enjoy life, act- 
ing throughout the length and breadth 
of it a comedy called Marriage. And 
with Knowledge in the background, 
what became of Self-respect? That too, 
went masked and in purple. And so 
Life was a grand masquerade which 
only Death uncovered. 

"I think if we are going to the matinee, 
it's time to go," said Mrs. Visor looking 

"I won't go today, Matilda," said 
Mrs. Penfield. 

A little twist came to Mrs. Visor's eye- 
brow. "Don't be a fool," she said. 
"Come on." 

No answer. 

Mrs. Visor looked shrewd. "Don't 
be jealous," she said, "it is so bourgeois." 

Mrs. Penfield resumed her rocking. 
After a few seconds she looked Mrs. 
Visor full in the face. * 'It is easy for 
men they are all alike, you say and 
women who think as you do, to manufac- 
ture an odium for right. You are accus- 
tomed to manufacture. 'Jealousy* is 
your handiest fling. But 1 am sane 


enough, or insane enough, to still see 
right as right and wrong as wrong. The 
bourgeoisie of the former does not con- 
cern me." 

"My dear child," said Mrs. Visor, re- 
seating herself, "you are making a mis- 
take. Even your right and wrong are 
only relative terms." 

"Perhaps so, but they are the best I 

"And the danger of positivism is that 
it is always narrow. Surely a large de- 
gree of moral filth is better than absolute 

Mrs. Penfield stopped her rocker. Her 
eyes grew friendlier. "You seem to be 
right," she said and paused. "But it 
is the assumption of moral cleanliness 
that is intolerable," she remarked ener- 
getically, "that, with the sub-conscious- 
ness of moral degradation." 

"What would you have?" sighed Mrs. 

"Truth in every relation of life, or no 
relations of life." 

Mrs. Visor looked at her with genuine 
concern. "But try," she said, "to see 
the whole of life. We can't change 
things. We can only pretend." 

Up leapt the flames of wrath and con- 
tempt in Mrs. Penfield's eyes. "When I 
lose my self-respect," she said, "I shall 
not pretend I have it." 

Mrs. Visor shrgged her shoulders. She 
got up and began to put on her gloves. 
"There is another thing," she said. 
"You have no proof that any of these 
rumors is true." 

Mrs. Penfield gave a little hard laugh. 
"Poor Matilda!" she said. "I appre- 
ciate your efforts, dear. But I am afraid 
I shall never be a successful pretender." 

"I'll run in tomorrow after lunch. 
Sorry you couldn't come," Mrs. Visor 
said lightly, giving a light, quick kiss. 
Then she tripped down the stairs and 
turned a very hard look upon the pretty 
street perspective. 

Mrs. Penfield got up and deliberately 
set herself to doing things. She picked 

up a small object here and put it down 
there, blew imaginary dust from this 
and passed her hand over that. "I must 
see to that dress," she said aloud and 
went upstairs. Then, noticing a stain on 
her hand, she rolled up her sleeves and 
went to the wash-stand. She was sing- 
ing softly, her pretty blonde face white 
and still, when she suddenly raised both 
bare arms, rested her eyes against them 
and sobbed wildly. The sound of her 
crying reached her presently and she 
stopped. It would not do to let anyone 
know. She resumed the washing of her 
hands. That finished, she went to her 
bed-room, shut the doors and sat down. 
She must try to think things out. . . 
"No proof," Matilda had said. A 
twitching, uncontrollable sneer deformed 
her pretty mouth. Maybe not, but when 
rumors were so persistent that they even 
reached her. Oh, and she needed no 
rumors. They alone would have left 
her secure. In her heart she knew, she 

Well, but positively? She had always 
believed in his truthfulness; indeed, had 
been won largely by her belief in it. 
She might ask him. Would she be con- 
vinced by his answer? Would he not 
swear that he had been true to her? Put 
the case fairly for him. Would it be 
sensible in him to do anything but swear 
so to her, whether he had been true or 
not? It was the only thing possible to 
him, unless he wished to be rid of her 
and that he did not wish, yet. He would 
be bound, out of the most elemental chi- 
valry, to spare her; he would furthermore 
desire to spare himself. He would cer- 
tainly swear solemnly that he had been 
true to her. 

But, suppose he shouldn 't ? Suppose 
he should be truthful? What then? She 
would undoubtedly be compelled to ad- 
mire his truthfulness and courage, but 
could they balance the wrong? Could 
they ever reinstate her faith in him? 
Could they make her continued life with 
him worthier than the other woman's? 


And who could tell about worthiness? 
Perhaps he loved the other woman. 
Then his life with his wife was an insult; 
a profanation. It was that in any case. 
He would be the first so to consider her 
life with him in the event of her hav- 
ing a lover. 

Would he? It would be impossible to 
judge of those things without absolute 
knowledge. And absolute knowledge in- 
volved She cut off the thought hope- 
lessly. "That's just it. They know they 
are safe." 

With that point unsettled she could 
not ask him. The strain was great. She 
had believed in him ! she had believed 
in him! Long before their marriage she 
had told him what she thought marriage 
should mean, and he had agreed with 
her and seemed true. She still believed 
he might tell her the truth if she asked 
him. And then, in spite of love, be- 
cause of it, she knew that Self-respect 
would command, unless, maybe Justice 
should plead. If she could only know 
how he would act under similar circum- 
stances. In a minute her mind .was 
made up. She would find out. 

At this, at the cost, Love went 
weeping out of sight and Matilda's words 
filled the world: "My dear, they don't 
care for those creatures; casual fancies 
that's all." 

Mr. Penfield was a man whom all 
women adored. He was handsome, 
scholarly, masterly. A few years older 
than his wife, he was still a very young- 
looking man. In common with most 
men, he made the mistake of thinking 
not even analyzing the thought, that 
women were different from men because 
they must be; laws of respectability, etc. 

When he came home on the day in 
question he was rather preoccupied. 
Only at dinner did he notice his wife's 

"Where is Mrs. Penfield?" he asked. 

"Mrs. Penfield' s gone out, sir," the 
man answered. The least little hint of 
severity glinted in his eyes, but he went 

on with his meal. Probably something 
had happened to detain her. 

After dinner he chose a cigar and 
went out. He had been going anyway, 
but there was a sophistical sense of get- 
ting even in his going now. She might 
at least have sent a message. He struck 
a match a little sharply. 

By nine o'clock a persistent frown had 
settled on his brow. She was home now, 
of course. Well, he wouldn't be for 
some time to come. Becoming worse 
and worse company, it was yet mid- 
night before he took a car homeward 

A compromise was being effected be- 
tween her justification and his own. 
Atfer all, what was it? She would ex- 
plain later. He let himself in the house. 
He went up softly to her room. He had 
been away from home a good deal of 

Turning the knob of the door, he 
looked in. All dark. As if the gloom 
held a palpable chill, he half-closed the 
door, then reopened it, entered and 
turned on the lights. The bed was made 
but no one had slept in it. A vultur- 
ously eager glance around the room 
revealed no trace of her. An apprehen- 
sive, strangled self-accusation balanced 
his alarm. He looked around for a 
message. None. On the point of ring- 
ing for her maid, some imp of prudence 
checked him. He need not show him- 
self so "out of it." Strangely enough, 
no thought of personal danger to her 
occurred to him. He would wait. 

One o'clock and still nothing. 

Two. And a million twitching devils 
of unrest began to play with his muscles. 
He could not keep still. Even when he 
walked he felt incipient convulsions 
through his limbs, his face, his brain. 

Three o'clock. The fight was fierce. 
His leaping flesh was almost quieted. 
He walked more slowly. 

Four. Five. He turned his eyes 
upon the clock. He stood and waited 
for the last hammer stroke to pound his 



heart. When it had done so, he resumed 
his walk. It never occurred to him that 
these hours might parallel some of hers. 
They were his. No other experience 
counted beside. 

Six. He could see the gray day shin- 
ing between the shutters like dead eyes 
under half-closed lids. He shivered a 
little with dumb weight 

At half-past seven he heard the front 
door open. He clenched his fists on the 
air; his knuckles looked like ivory, his 
eyes like red-hot swords. He heard her 
coming up the stair. No, she had not 
been ill. Her step was elastic. She 
spoke in quite her usual tone to the 
maid in the hall. She opened her room 

"Good morning," she said ordinarily. 

The man's eyes snapped like pistol 
shots. He watched her take off her hat 
and gloves and run her fingers leisurely 
through her hair. 

"Did you succeed with that business 
you were anxious about yesterday?" 

Her tone was pleasantly interested, 
not propitiatory. She was adjusting her 
collar in the mirror. The man waited 
for her look. Presently she turned it 
on him. In an instant it was soldered 
to his, the heat of his gaze cleaving to 
her very bones. 

"Well?" he said. 

"Well," she answered negligently, 
noticing mechanically how stiff with 
cold his mouth seemed. 

"Where have you been?" 

The inquiry was polite though formal. 
She went over to him jollyingly. In 
spite of himself Penfield wondered 
whether he had ever used just that 
manner. He choked the thought off 
with a shake and let her come. 

"I had some business to attend to," 
Mrs. Penfield explained quietly, giving 
his ear a light kiss. 


"Yes. I told you some time ago," 
with a pat on his shoulder, "that I had 
a plan for building my fortune," 

"It seems to me questionable in char- 
acter if it is to keep you out nights." 

"Now how can you say that?" she re- 
monstrated gently. "Doesn't your busi- 
ness keep you out nights frequently? 
Isn't it respectable?" 

He said nothing, but quietly and 
strongly compelled her to face him. One 
might have counted fifteen while he 
looked her eyes through. 

"You are not telling me the truth," 
he said finally, with an incongruous 
sibilance, as if there were a leak in his 

"What makes you think so?" she in- 
quired patiently. Then with perspicu- 
ity: "Don't you tell me the truth about 
your business?" 

He put the question aside with a 
movement of the head and repeated: 
"You are not telling me the truth." 

For one moment her eyes baffled him. 
Before he could tell why, she was 
bland again. 

"Do you wish me to tell you the 

He looked his command, upon which 
she spoke hers. "Let me go." 

He undid his hands from her wrists. 

"I met a gentleman, yes, a gentle- 
man, certainly last evening and " 

She tugged at her belt buckle, bending 
her head and biting her lips hard as she 
did so. 

"Well?" said Penfield. 

"Where is the person who does net 
strive for all that will aid in experience?" 

"Well?" Penfield' s voice sounded like 
the premonitory snaps of cracking ice 

Mrs. Penfield looked at him quickly, 
her lips pleasant, her eyes the tear- 
stained, blood-stained battlefields of 
honor, happiness, home. "I have won- 
dered often how you felt toward me 
under similar circumstances," she said 
matter-of-factly, "You were common- 

Penfield seized her pistol from the 
dresser and fired. She staggered slightly 



but did not fall nor scream. An instant 
her eyes gripped his with the might of 
eternity her eternity. Then she walked 
up to him, snatched the pistol from him 
and rang the bell violently. 

"Why do you leave this thing on my 
dresser when it is loaded?" she cried 
distractedly to her maid. "I have shot 
myself. Send for a doctor." The maid 
rushed out. 

"Close the door," she commanded her 

"I" he began. 

"Close the door." 

He obeyed. 

"I knew you to be false to me," she 
said tensely, while her whitening face 
quivered and her eyes fought like devils 
of despair, "but I coward!" she broke 
off. "HUSH!" she whistled, "it is my 
turn now for a little while. I spent the 
night at Matilda's." 

He raised his head and looked at her. 

"Your honor," she continued with a 
trembling sneer, "is safe." 

"My God!" said the man. 

Suddenly she sank to the floor. ^ 

"My God!" insisted Penfield, starting 
towards her. 

Her eyelids flung back slowly. "You 
are a murderer," she said, "but try not 
to dishonor me more than you need." 

"I killed myself the wages of " 

Then with furious appeal, raising 
herself on one elbow and shooting the 
blood out from her breast: "Why should 

I pay your wages? I don't want to die! 

My God, I don't want " 

A hiccough of blood ended the prayer. 
She fell back to the floor. 

The man knelt, dazed, crazy. He 
looked at her, prayed, longed, screamed 
without a sound. 

And presently her eyes opened, bigger 
and bigger, fuller and fuller, until it 
seemed that every hope they had ever 
mirrored fought for a place therein ; every 
loving thought, every good memory. 
Her eyes were oceans of love, twilights 
of it, with indefinable, infinite horizons 
of promise. He looked and read them 
clearly; read the great agony of might- 
have-been darkening them irrevocably. 
He could not breathe, but he knew it 
not. He watched her and presently with 
all her strength she put out one hand for 
his. He took it, though his eyes never 
left hers. They seemed to dilate; to 
grow to his brain. Christ! what a soul! 

The doctor and a policeman entered 
simultaneously. The former bent over 
her. "She's dead," he said. 

"How did it happen?" the officer 

"I " began Penfield, taking his hand 
from hers and gazing mechanically at the 
blood on it. 

"Shot herself accidentally, didn't 

Penfield wiped her blood off his hand 
with his handkerchief. 

"Yes," he said. 


By Ernest McGaffey 

IF women's lives stood naked as at birth 
Before death crumpled up their painted screen; 
Then, in the confines of this sad old earth 
There might be hope for Mary Magdalene. 

If Christ, at last, made Justice as His test, 
That Christ whose feet were dried by Mary's hair, 
The dumb repentance in a harlot's breast 
Would be as potent as a virgin's prayer. 


By Wightman Fletcher Melton 


THE Southern-Northern, Northern- 
Southern incarnation of brotherly 
love and mutual confidence, after a long 
life of successive victories, has at last 
surrendered to the Rider of the Pale 
The morning's papers say: 

"General Joseph Wheeler, whose death 
occurred in Brooklyn, N. Y., yesterday, 
probably did more to heal the wounds 
left by the Civil War than any other 

As an Alabamian, a democrat, an ac- 
quaintance and personal friend of Gen- 
eral Wheeler, I believe if he were here 
he would claim no more than modestly 
to share with President McKinley, 
Senator Cushman, K. Davis and others 
the honor of having been the means, 
in the hands of Destiny, of blotting out 
some of the remnant traces of bitterness 
between the head and heart, or heart 
and head, of our great Republic. 

The Cuban campaign brought the first 
opportunity, since the Civil war, for a 
Confederate general to offer his services, 
in the capacity of warrior, to our govern- 
ment. Likewise it afforded our govern- 
ment its first opportunity of recognizing, 
or paying tribute to, the bravery and 
accomplishments of a great Confederate 
veteran. The man and the opportunity 
met, and each, heaven-guided, embraced 
the other. That is the whole story in 
a dozen words. 

Among the unreading, unthinking, or 
uncaring, North and South, it was whis- 
pered that President McKinley ap- 
pointed Wheeler as major-general, more 
as a concession to the South than as 

a merited honor. What was then seen 
through a glass darkly we now behold 
face to face; and the runner may read 
that President McKinley recognized the 
need of one of this country's ablest tacti- 
cians in the operations around Santiago. 

General Wheeler's offer to serve in 
the Cuban war was the subject of much 
discussion and speculation. Some of 
the veterans of the Civil war went so 
far as to wonder if the man had been 
sufficiently reconstructed. Senator Cush- 
man K. Davis of Minnesota was the first 
who offered a strong endorsement of 
Joseph Wheeler. With several other in- 
fluential men Senator Davis called on 
President McKinley and made known 
his "mission. Without a moment's hesi- 
tation the president replied: 

"Why of course I am going to appoint 
him general." 

"I'm mighty glad to hear it," said 
Senator Davis, "and I want to tell you, 
Mr. President, why I regard Joe Wheeler 
as one of the greatest generals this coun- 
try ever produced. He gave me more 
trouble during the war than any other 
dozen men and scared me so that I think 
it must have stunted my growth." 

"Incidentally," continued the senator, 
if you want any testimony as to Wheel- 
er's grit, I can furnish plenty of it for 
you. Before that war ended I found that 
he had chased me pretty much all over 
seven states, and I guess if Lee hadn't 
surrendered 'Joe' would have taken my 
scalp, for he was getting closer all the 

Wheeler's popularity in the North, 
before the Cuban war, was due to the 



fact that God made him a man, and the 
people recognized him as such. Lest 
this might be thought fulsome praise, 
we may specify that after Appomattox 
Wheeler's whole influence, like that of 
Robert E. Lee, was used among his peo- 
ple to make them forget the past, build 
up their wasted country, and live in 
peace and harmony with those who had 
formerly been regarded as enemies. 

Joseph Wheeler was born September 
10, 1836, at Augusta, Georgia. His par- 
ents died when he was five years old, 
and he was sent to his mother's relatives 
in Sheshire, Connecticut. There he 
attended school awhile, and at the age 
of fourteen began to earn his own living 
in the City of New York. His appoint- 
ment to West Point was made by a con- 
gressman* of his own name, but not re- 
lated to him, John Wheeler, formerly of 
Derby, Connecticut, but at the time rep- 
resenting a New York district. He 
was graduated from West Point July i, 
1859, and was assigned to the Fifth 
Dragoons with the rank of second lieu- 
tenant, and served in New Mexico. 

On April 23, 1861, Wheeler heeded the 
call of his mother-state, resigned his 
commission, and was made colonel of 
the Nineteenth Alabama Infantry in the 
Confederate army. After the battle of 
Shiloh, he was transferred to the cavalry 
and after this every move he made 
was rewarded by honorable mention or 
promotion, neither of which he ever 
sought for the honor's sake. We shall 
have occasion to refer to his war record 
on almost every page of this study. 

The year 1866 found Wheeler, yet 
under thirty, an ex-major general, resid- 
ing in the city of New Orleans and con- 
ducting the business of a commission 
merchant. About this time the Univer- 
sity of Louisiana offered him the posi- 
tion of commandant, and the professor- 
ship of sciences, but he declined the 
honor and moved to Wheeler, Alabama, 
where he practiced law and planted cot 

ton till 1880. That year he was elected 
to congress from the Eighth Alabama 
district, but the election was contested, 
and he did not secure the seat. Four 
years later he was elected and was re- 
elected for every term up to and includ- 
ing 1898. After effective service in 
both Cuba and the Philippines, he was 
made a brigadier, June-, 1900, and in 
September of that year was retired with 
the rank of brigadier-general of the 
United States army. 

When General Wheeler was twenty- 
seven years old, and just after his ride 
around Rosecrans, he and his men 
pulled up before Colonel Dick Jones' 
mansion at midnight. The colonel was 
away from home, but his daughter, Mrs. 
Daniella Sherrod, a brilliant and beauti- 
ful widow, yet in her teens, arose and 
dispensed hospitality to the worn-out 
men. General Wheeler and Mrs. Sher- 
rod did not meet till the next morning, 
but from that moment she was the one 
and only sweetheart he ever had. Mrs. 
Sherrod was first attracted to the general 
by seeing how he was grieved over the 
report of casualties to his subordinates, 
although he had just achieved a bril- 
liant victory. 

Mr. A. C. Walker, a resident of 
Wheeler, Alabama, wrote me April 5, 
1899: "My acquaintance with General 
Wheeler and his family began about 
1870, and I can truthfully say I never 
saw a happier home. The general was 
a kind and loving husband, and is very 
proud of his children, of whom five are 
now living. In his home life he is un- 
ostentatious and lives well but frugally 

T. C. DeLeon, in ''Joseph Wheeler 
the Man," page fifteen, speaking of 
Wheeler's blameless domestic life, says: 

"At this, no political rivalry, pique or 
disappointment has ever cast a slur. 
The beautiful simplicity of perfect love 
and perfect sympathy which binds that 


home circle has gleamed forth and glori- 
fied it abroad. Its head is revered and 
idolized by all the rest, while his own 
life shows respect and love and tender- 
ness for each of them, equal to their 

Mr. Walker says: 

"The general is very careful of his 
health and the health of his family. He 
is a firm believer in athletics for both 
his boys and his girls. He is a fine 
shot and delights in practising with a 
small rifle or pistol, and can hit the 
bullseye every time. He is a wonder- 
fully active man; I see no difference in 
his agility now and when I first knew 
him, nearly thirty years ago. He rides 
as well in a saddle with no girth as with 
one that is well strapped to the horse, 
and he has never been fastidious either 
about dress or steed. When he wants 
to go anywhere he usually mounts the 
first thing he finds saddled, which has 
often been some negro's lean mule. 
The negro would be hunting for his lost 
'critter,' when here would come the gen- 
eral lumbering along at a full gallop. 
Meeting the negro he would say, 'By 
the way, now,' a favorite expression of 
his, 'put this mule up.' 

"The astonished negro would reply, 
'Dat's my mule, Mars' Gen'rul, I's been 
lookin' ev'ywher's fur 'im! ' " 

On the summit of the mountain, about 
two miles south and west of Wheeler, the 
general built a plain Summer home to 
which he always went with the keenest 
delight during the Summer months. But 
he did not go there to rest. He always 
carried his books and papers. 

Mr. Walker says : 

"It is hard to describe this man. 
Sometimes, when he returns home from 
a long business trip, and finds a great 
accumulation of mail, he engages three 
or four clerks (secretaries), several out- 
siders, and sometimes his own children, 
and placing us at different parts of a 
large table, starts off replying to as many 
letters as he has clerks. He has no 
trouble dictating and keeping all the 
writers going at once and I have never 
known him to get mixed, or to make a 
mistake; and, like as not,one of his letters 
would be to a high official of the govern- 
ment and another to some poor, ob 

scure negro about a pension. When he 
returns home from congress for rest he 
takes none. He will not be idle, and 
has always three or four clerks at work 
from morning till night" 

DeLeon says General Wheeler weighed 
118 pounds and was five feet five inches 
high. He was eight pounds bigger in the 
estimation of DeLeon than in that of 
the daily papers, but the latter make up 
for it by holding him one inch higher 
in their estimation than does DeLeon. 
This writer remembers, nearly thirty 
years ago, seeing the general drive into 
Courtland, Alabama, several times a 
week, behind a pair of small, mouse- 
colored mules. In the child-mind the 
real picture became so blended with 
fairy stories that, at times, it was diffi- 
cult to .realize which was General 
Wheeler. A few years ago, in Hunts- 
vine, Alabama, we saw him one day 
clatter through the streets in an army 
wagon drawn by four big, black mules, 
the big heart of the little man almost 
idolized by a hemisphere. Another day 
he rode by on a black charger, plume 
flying, sword rattling, epaulets glisten- 
ing, heart beating for the entire Union, 
and the world said: "There goes a 

When someone spoke to Speaker Reed 
about the" diminutive size of General 
Wheeler, he replied, "Yes, but there's 
a fight in every pound of the congress- 
man from Alabama." 

A stranger might not have picked 
General Wheeler out of a crowd as 
a hero of two wars, but, as the Ram's 
Horn said a few years ago, "his mobile 
face, cool judgment, calm thoughtfulness 
and quiet dignity, coupled with the pierc- 
ing eye to command, irrepressible energy 
and quick decision, make him a natural- 
born leader on the field of battle." 

This man, twice a veteran, was fully 
as modest as he was brave; in both wars 
he was loved by the men who followed 



him and respected by the men who faced 
him. General Sherman in one of his 
reports of his progress towards the sea, 
referred to a harrassing detachment of 
Confederates as "that batch of devils 
under Wheeler." Mind you, he didn't 
say "that batch of men under that devil 
Wheeler." Even if he had said such 
a thing it would have been a compli- 
ment. If "war is hell," and Sherman 
said so, and a Georgia farmer told me 
Sherman played hell in his neighbor- 
hood, then to be the most successful is 
to be the biggest devil. The word 
"devil" don't always signify the same 
thing. I saw an old negro grandfather 
in Mississippi hug his baby daughter's 
first-born to his ragged bosom, half 
smother it with kisses, and exclaim, 
"Gawd bress you, my HI' brack debil!" 

The post-bellum friendship, warm and 
genuine, between Sherman and Wheeler, 
speaks in very sure terms of the mag- 
nanimity of both of them, 

General Wheeler's alertness and ever- 
readyness were manifested from begin- 
ning to end of his military career. When 
he was harassing the Federals around 
Chattanooga, the complaint was, "That 
Wheeler has an unpleasant way of call- 
ing before breakfast, when he should be 
ninety miles away." 

Although sixty-two years old, General 
Wheeler required only thirty hours to 
get ready, go, and report for duty in 
Tampa. Government time, paper and 
ink were squandered when General Cor- 
bin, instructing Wheeler to report to 
Brooke, said: "Prompt action is neces- 

When the casement had become a 
"glimmering square," the general was 
still hi mself. He inquired, "What time 
will the firing begin?" 

The nurse, thinking to humor him, 
replied, "At nine o'clock." 

Without a tremor, the expiring 
soldier said, "Well, be sure to let me 
know half a minute before nine, 

so that everything may be ready." 

As DeLeon well suggests (pages 136-7), 
"When armies give nicknames to their 
leaders, their style shows the love, or 
dislike, out of which they are born. 
'Little Phil' and 'Little Joe' are equally 
terms of endearment." At West Point 
it was "Point" Wheeler, not because he 
was a West Pointer, but because his fel- 
low "plebs," all of whom loved him, said 
he was without length, breadth, or thick- 
ness. During the Civil war his men 
sometimes called him" Our Bee-Hunter," 
because he had a habit of looking up into 
the trees as he led his men through the 
forests. They learned, down in Cuba, 
after Wheeler was sixty-two years old, 
what use he had for a tall tree. 

In those stirring times in Tennessee, 
Wheeler's men called him the "War 
Child." DeLeon (page 139) says: 
"When he would sally forth on a noc- 
turnal dash, the whisper ran down the 
line, 'The War Child rides tonight!' " 

To the Southern negro he was "Mars' 
Gen'rul Joe", pronounced as if each 
syllable had been a slice of "wata- 
million.' To men of his own age, in 
the South, he was plain Joe Wheeler. 
Since the war with Spain I have heard 
veterans in blue and gray chat together 
affectionately about "Our Joe." 

One of the general's nicknames, 
"Fighting Joe," is somewhat mislead- 
ing. He did not love war. Speaker 
Reed's remark, "a fight to every pound" 
was not meant to imply that he was 
a bully. He was always opposed to 
bloodshed, but was always equally ready 
to stand up for the right, as he saw it, 
against all comers. He was a strong 
advocate of always being ready for any 
emergency as the surest and best way of 
avoiding conflict with other nations. 

The Ram's Horn article, already re- 
ferred to, says: "He was brought up in 
the Episcopal church with a great rever- 
erence for sacred things and faith in the 


efficacy of prayer. The members of 
General Wheeler's staff say that during 
the Santiago campaign he never lay 
down to sleep without offering a prayer, 
and never arose in the morning without 
thanking God for his protection and 
preservation. He had none of the vices 
of intemperance or other bad habits 
which have ruined so many soldiers and 

DeLeon, (page 135) relates the cir- 
cumstances of the general being found 
on his knees by the bedside when the 
man he was visiting came with a pitcher 
of fresh drinking-water. "The general 
arose at the moment, and the other 
began to apologize for the intrusion. 
The calm answer was: 'No intrusion, 
my good friend; none in the world. I 
always kneel and say my prayers to the 
good God, before I retire; and I am not 
ashamed to be seen upon my knees.' ' 

It was before Santiago that General 
Wheeler, leading a desperate charge, 
is said to have yelled to his men, "Give 

praying. Some folks are mighty particu- 
lar about what a man says even under 
the strain of excitement. Like the small 
boy, I have often wondered what the 
priest thinks when he mashes his thumb. 
An Alabamian, whose father is a Metho- 
dist preacher, is reported to have said: 
"When Pa gets mad he always slams 



the Yanks hell, boys! There they go!" 
One old preacher said : **I don't believe 
Joe said such a thing; why, he's got 
religion!" For myself, I believe he did 
say it, every word of it, "Yank," "hell" 
and all. Nor was he quoting, nor para- 
phrasing Sherman. Under such circum- 
stances a wicked man would have been 

the door, and I call that wooden cuss- 

A week after the above was written, 
there appeared in the Birmingham, Ala- 
bama, News, (January 27, 1906) the fol- 
lowing : 

"Last Summer when General Wheeler 
was in Louisville, attending the great 
Confederate reunion, an admirer asked 
him if there was any truth in the story, 
which was widely published shortly after 
the famous fight. General Wheeler 
said: 'Yes, I said it. Don't say anything 
about it, buf I said it. I said it not only 
once, but several times. I could not 
help it. Things did not look so different 
from what they did during the Civil 
War, and I forgot where I was.' I take 
this to be a gentlemanly apology to the 
'Yanks,' but 'hell' remains unmentioned. 
To General Joseph Wheeler, then and 
now, 'hell' is but a word.'' 

DeLeon (page 125) says: "Wheeler's 
academy chum, General John M. Wil- 
son, chief of the United States engineer- 



ing corps, once said that, for many long 
years, he had never heard the hymn, 
'Onward, Christian Soldiers,' without 
thinking of 'Point' Wheeler." 
Walker writes: 

"The general is polite to one and all, 
and is no respecter of persons. He 
bears malice towards none, no matter 
how badly he may have been treated. He 
and his family are always doing some 
good to the poor people around them. 
They do not give indiscriminately, but 
no deserving hand is ever turned away 
empty. He is very popular among all 
classes and races here and throughout 
the state. Several years ago a man who 
had opposed the general for congress 
was living here, in Wheeler, in a frame 
house. One day while we were all very 
busy with the correspondence, we heard 
loud shouting, and shortly learned that 
this man's house was on fire. The gen- 
eral in a moment was out of his office 
and speeding to the burning house. I 
followed, and although I am a younger 
man he beat me running, and when I 
got there he was in the upper part of the 
house with an axe, cutting a hole in the 
roof. Soon he climbed through, and 
from his point of vantage directed the 
crowd of excited negroes, and stayed 
there too, till we had extinguished the 
fire. Afterwards he returned to his work 
as undisturbed as if nothing had hap- 

"General Wheeler's memory," writes 
Mr. Walker, "is something wonderful; 
if it is ever at fault, he tells us about it. 
I remember one incident, and he is fond 
of telling it. He had been on a hot can- 
vass, such as his earlier ones were, and 
had been traveling all day. He reached 
Mount Hope, about twenty miles from 
Wheeler, where he was to speak the next 
morning. He was quite worn out when 
he arrived and saw the crowd of men 
standing around, apparently waiting for 
him. Among them was a prominent re- 
publican, but a good friend to the gen- 

"In a moment he had alighted from the 
old mail hack and was shaking hands 
and calling the names of men who 

scarcely knew him, as readily as if he 
had known them all his life. At last 
he reached out his hand to the politician 
opposing him, and whose name he had 
known as well as his own. Suddenly the 
name slipped his memory and he could 
not recall it to save his life. This man 
had a claim against the government and 
had been writing and writing about it so 
much that the general thought it a ter- 
rible thing that he had forgotten the 
name. He had some documents in his 
valise at the time for this very man. He 
did not know how to find out the name 
without asking, and unwilling to show 
his ignorance, the expedient occurring to 
him, he took out pencil and paper and 
asked quietly, 'By the way, now, how do 
you spell your name?' The man looked 
up and replied, 'S-m-i-t-h!' It always 
tickled the general to tell this, and that 
he actually could not recall the name 
'Smith;' and of course the man thought 
it was funny that a congressman could 
not spell 'Smith.' ' At the conclusion 
of Mr. Walker's letter he says: "These 
incidents are true." We wonder if the 
general's 'Smith' experience gave rise to 
the 'Jones' story, or if it was history 
repeating itself. 

These remarks about General Wheel- 
er's memory would indicate that he was 
only teasing the old negro whose mule 
he rode, and who was commanded to put 
op a steed that did not belong to the 

During the Civil war Wheeler was in 
something over five hundred skirmishes, 
and commanded in one hundred and 
twenty-seven battles, many of which were 
severe and successful to the Southern 
side. The "Ram's Horn" says he had 
five horses killed under him, and a great 
number wounded, during the war. It is 
certain that two horses were killed under 
him in the battle of Shiloh alone, and so 
we are inclined to accept the report in 
the papers, that sixteen horses were 
shot and killed while he was riding them. 




Nearly half a hundred staff officers 
were killed or wounded while riding 
beside General Wheeler, and he was 
himself slightly wounded several times, 
and once painfully, when his horse was 
blown to pieces by an exploding shell 
and his aide was killed beside him; but 
he mounted another horse, called for 
another aide and went forward to com- 

On one occasion Wheeler dashed into 
the forces of General Stoneman and 
actually captured the general himself 
and several other important officers. 

About the time of Wheeler's wild 
plunge into Duck river, Dr. John Allan 
Wyeth, formerly of Guntersville, Ala- 
bama, but for many years one of the 
leading physicians of New York City, 
was a private in Wheeler's cavalry. In 
Harper's Weekly, June 18, 1898, (quoted 
by DeLeon, pages 1 1 1 and 1 1 2) Dr. 
Wyeth gives a description of a battle 
which is sufficiently realistic to make 
the reader feel that he was there with 
Wyeth and Wheeler: 

"Of about a score of such 'scraps,' 
some of which of larger growth have 
passed to a place on the bloodiest pages 
of history, the writer does not recall a 
contest which, for downright pluck in 
giving and taking knocks through sev- 

eral hours, surpasses this Shelbyville 
'affair.' The carbines and rifles were 
flashing and banging away at times; and 
scattering shots, when the game was at 
long range, and then, when a charge 
came on and the work grew hot, the 
spiteful, sharp explosion swelled into a 
crackling roar like that of a canebrake 
on fire, when, in a single minute, hun- 
dreds of boiler-joints have burst asunder. 
Add to all, the whizzing angry whirr of 
countless leaden missiles which split the 
air about you; the hoarse, unnatural 
shouts of command for in battle all 
sounds of the human voice seem out of 
pitch and tone; the wild, defiant yells 
and the answering huzzas of the oppos- 
ing lines; the plunging and rearing of 
frightened horses; the charges here and 
there of companies or squadrons, which 
seem to be shot out from the main body 
as flames shot out of a house on fire; 
here and there the sharp, quick cry of 
some unfortunate trooper who did not 
hear one leaden messenger for only 
those are heard which pass; the heavy, 
soggy striking of the helpless body against 
the ground; the scurrying runaway of the 
frightened horse, as of ten into danger 
as out of it, whose empty saddle tells 
the foe that there is one less rifle to fear! 
All these sights and sounds go to make 
up the confusing medley of a battle-field. 
So, for nearly three hours, passed this 
little fight." 

Dr. Wyeth continues the story, telling 
of how the Confederates repulsed the 



Federal troops time after time, and how 
General Wheeler was "everywhere en- 
couraging and animating his men to 
stand firm." 

Wheeler's restless energy was the oc- 
casion of many amusing remarks. When 
some of his colleagues were apprehensive 
of his health in the Philippines, Speaker 
Reed playfully remarked that Wheeler 
was never in one place long enough for 
the Almighty to place His finger upon 
him. During the Cuban campaign some- 
one inquired at Wade's tent to" know if 
General Wheeler was there. Wade re- 
plied: "He was here, look behind that 
cracker box!" 

Only the Congressional Records are 
large enough to recount all the victories 
won by Wheeler in the capacity of con- 
gressman. It was he who introduced 
and secured the passage of the act pen- 
sioning the soldiers of the Mexican war; 
his speech and work defeated the "Force 
bill;" it was he, an ex-Confederate, who 
cleared General Fitz-John Porter of the 
charge of treason and secured the pass- 
age of a bill for his relief. 

When Wheeler was elected to con- 
gress, the last time, no man entered the 
race against him, and men of every 
color and of every political faith voted 
for "Our Joe Wheeler." 

General Wheeler was the first ex-officer 
of the Confederacy to be invited to ad- 
dress a New England G. A. R. post. In 
his speech in Boston that day Wheeler 
alluded to the prophecy of General Hor- 
ace Binney Sargent, who, thirty years 
before, in a memorial address, predicted 
that the day would come yet when such 
an anniversary would be celebrated 
"after some day of glory when the sons 
of rebels and our sons shall have fallen 
side by side under the eye of the great 
rebel, the Virginian, Washington." 

"Already," said General Wheeler, 
"the words of this prophecy have been 

Moses Wheeler, who was born in Kent 
(yaunty, England, 1598, and settled in 
New Haven, Connecticut, 1638, was 
the first American ancestor of General 
Joseph Wheeler. General David Wooster 
of the Revolutionary war was a grandson 
of Moses Wheeler; the noted Stephen 
Whitney of New York was a great-great 
grandson; his great-great-great grand- 
daughter, Nancy Wheeler, married Louis 
Allen, a descendant of Ethan Allen, and 
her sister, Mary, married Levi Hull 
(1811) brother of Commodore Isaac Hull, 
United States navy. General Joseph 
Wheeler belongs to the seventh genera- 
tion of Wheelers in America. 

Since the whole of our Union loved 
General Wheeler, and now reveres his 
memory, it may not be out of place to 
mention the names of some others of the 
relatives, and especially so, as the line 
is most honorable, and shows where the 
military spirit came in. It also reveals 
the fact that General Wheeler was of kin 
to a goodly portion of the best people 
in England, Ireland and America. 

Among his relatives were Joseph Hull, 
surgeon in King Philip's war; Joseph 
Hull (4) lieutenant of artillery in the 
Revolution; one of his sisters married 
John C. Sanfoord, and another Theodore 
Salter, both of New York. These were 
great-uncles and great-aunts of our 
Joseph Wheeler. 

Wheeler's maternal grandfather was 
William Hull, educated at Yale, lieuten- 
ant-colonel in 1779 and assistant inspec- 
tor under Baron Steuben ; he was in the 
battles of Long Island, White Plains, 
Trenton, Princeton, Ticonderoga, Still- 
water, Saratoga and Monmouth ; he was 
thanked by the government for gallantry 
in leading his regiment in the storming 
of Stony Point. Hull's portrait is in 
Trumbull's famous life-size painting of 
the "Surrender of Burgoyne," now in 
the rotunda of the United States Capitol. 

Wheeler's aunt, Sarah Hull, married 
Judge John McKesson of New York, 
August 26, iSorr. Other aunts married 




Photograph copyright 190O by Purdy, Boston 

Isaac McClellen of Portland (1805); and 
Captain H. H. Hickman, United States 
army, (1808). 

Abraham Fuller Hull, uncle of Joseph 
Wheeler, graduated at Harvard in 1805. 
was captain Ninth Infantry, United 
States army, and fell in the memorable 
action at Lundy's Lane, July 25, 1814, 
gallantly leading his men to the charge. 

An aunt of Wheeler, Maria Hull, 
married Edward Fenwick Campbell of 
Augusta, Georgia. His ancestry in- 
cluded Roger Fenwick, who was killed 
in an assault while mounting the 
walls at the siege of Dunkirk, June 
14, 1658; also Sir John Fenwick, Baro- 
net, who was tried by parliament No- 
vember 6, 1696, to January 11, 1697, for 
adhering to King James. The vote in 
the house of lords was sixty-six for, to 
sixty against, the bill of attainder, and in 

the commons 189 to 156. In this coun- 
try the Fenwicks are connected with the 
Draytons and Tattnalls of South Caro- 
lina and Georgia. The Fenwicks have 
lived near Newcastle-on-Tyne for over 
fourteen centuries. 

Rev. James Freeman Clarke, D. D., 
of Newton, Massachusetts, was Wheeler's 
cousin, and Rufus K. Page, of Hallo- 
well, Maine, an uncle by marriage. 

Another maternal ancestor of Joseph 
Wheeler, John Fuller, came to this coun- 
try with J. Winthrop Jr. in the Abigail 
in 1635, an d for two hundred years the 
Fuller family owned what is now the 
town of Newton, Massachusetts. The 
Fullers, three generations, married into 
the following Massachusetts and Con- 
necticut families: Boyleston, Hicks, 
Hyde, Ward, Jackson, Stratton, Bond, 
Shepard. Cook, Mason, Child, Garfield, 


Park, Cheny, Jones and Dyer. Chief 
Justice Melville W. Fuller is a direct 
descendant of this Fuller family. 

Abraham Fuller, one of Wheeler's 
grandfathers, was a member of the con- 
vention assembled in 1788 to ratify the 
Constitution of the United States. 

One of Wheeler's great-great uncles, 
son of Ephriam and Elizabeth Williams, 
was the founder of Williams college. 

Wheeler belongs to the ninth genera- 
tion descended from Sergeant Francis 
Nichols, one of the original proprietors 
in Stratford, Connecticut, and Southold, 
Long Island. From this branch of the 
family, and nearer to Wheeler's genera- 
tion, appear the names Prentice, Martin 
and Knell. 

While the general's family records 
have been traced no further back than 
1598, Mrs. Wheeler's on her mother's 
side actually extends to 225 A. D. Mrs. 
Wheeler's grandfather, Harrison Jones, 
of Cumberland County, Virginia, was 
a soldier of the Revolution. His leg 
was shot off at Guilford Court House, 
March 15, 1781, and the state of Vir- 
ginia granted him the first pension cer- 
tificate ever issued in this country. 

Mrs. Wheeler's uncle, Jacob Thomp- 
son, was many years in congress and 
was secretary of the interior 1857-61. 
Her father, Richard Jones, was first- 
honor graduate of Athens (Georgia) 
College, 1812; and was sergeant-major, 
Colonel Floyd's regiment. Her mother 
was a daughter of Governor Peter Early 
of Georgia, and it is this family that is 
able to trace its ancestry fifty -four gen- 
erations, to Carbri Lifichar, King of 
Ireland, born about 225 A. D. Among 
Mrs. Wheeler's American (Early) rela- 
tives were General Jubal A. Early, and 
the Methodist Bishop John Early. 

Mrs. Wheeler's great -great grand- 
father, Jeremiah Early, came from 
County Donegal, Ireland, and settled 
in Madison County, Virginia, about 
1720. He had ten sons: Jeremiah, James, 
Jonathan, Jacobus, Jubal, Jacob, Joab, 

John, Joseph and Joel. The last named, 
Mrs. Wheeler's great grandfather, was 
deputy of the Virginia convention in 
1788, which ratified the Constitution. 
Her grandfather, Peter Early, graduated 
from Princeton, 1792, and her grand- 
mother was a sister of General Thomas 
P. Smith, United States army, in whose 
honor Fort Smith, Arkansas, was named. 
She was also a sister of John T. Smith, 
known in history as "John Smith T." 

The early history of the Earlys, while 
it is authentic, is certainly about as 
ancient history as any American can 
know himself to be personally interested 
in. We quote from "American Ances- 
tors of the Children of Joseph and 
Daniella Wheeler, of Whom We Have 
Records" compiled by General and 
Mrs. Wheeler. (It is from this pamphlet 
that we have culled much of the 
information we have given). 

"Carbri Lifichar, an ancient king of 
Ireland was born about A. D. 225. -His 
son, Eochaidh Dubhlein, born 260. 

His sons were: 

Colla Uais, meaning 'the noble.' 

Colla Meann, 'the famous.' 

Colla da Crioch, meaning 'of the two 
territories,' referring to his possessions 
in both Scotland and Ireland. 

The three Collas won the battle of 
Dublcomar, and thus restored their 
family to power, and Colla Uais as- 
cended the throne of Ireland in 322. In 
326 he was deposed, but the three Collas, 
with an army of 21,000 men, after many 
battles, conquered the king of Ulster 
(See Keating's History of Ireland) and 
erected a new principality. 

"Colla da Crioch became prince of 
Criomthain, and his posterity maintained 
their authority over it as titular kings of 
Ulster until their submission to England 
about the year 1300. 

"His descendants were: Fiachra- 
casan, Feidlimidh, Tuathal, Colcan, 
Aongus, Diceilidh, Ultan, Cuanach, 
Inrachta, Donoch, Maolmocheirgh, 
founder of the O'Maolmocheirghes." 




t'i oru stereograph copyright 1906 by Underwood & Underwood 

The family history of the Irish branch 
is given, page 19, with the statement that 
the information is largely derived from 
the "Annals of the Four Masters," an 
authentic work printed in 1631, and com- 
piled from the ancient Gaelic manu- 
scripts. The name O'Maolmocheirghe 
was anglicised as "Early'' dur'n^ ine 
reigf of the Henrys and Edw-ir^ 

At the conclusion of thiF m^.. -.: 
appea.-s a statement by Gener .. Mrs. 
Whee't". addressed to i-heir chile "en, 
which shows just v/h' k : "d of p opie 
thev were: 

"We have g^hered the foregoing 
hoping that it may be not only 

of interest but profitable to you. It will 
at least be a constant reminder that every 
act of yours will, in a measure, attach to 
all of your name and race." 

That the words of the "War Angel," 
Annie Early Wheeler, upon the occasion 
-.." the drowning of her brother, have 
been quoted by some ancestral angel 
"over there," and with 'reference to 
General Joseph Wheeler, who would 
dare to doubt? 

"I was there upon the waters wild, 
And Look his hand; 
And, thro' the gloom, 
Led safely home 

My child! 





IN the first months of 1905 I "covered" 
Mexico by rail, by wagon and by 
horse, looking and listening everywhere, 
as a correspondent should, from the cata- 
combs at Guanajauto to the canvas gam- 
bling-booths at Juarez. Underground 
Rome herself has nothing more grew- 
some than those silent corridors of death 
in Mexico. The main corridor in par- 
ticular was lined with white - sheeted 
figures of an Aztec age, when people 
buried their dead in an earth that was 
full of saltpetre, in which bodies quickly 
mummified. In that place, with the mum- 
mies standing like immutable guards on 
either side of us, our guide left us for 
a moment. Our party included a young 
Cuban, who seemed not to enjoy being 

left alone with that preserved population. 
"Oh, if only I could get out!" he cried, 
over and over again. 

I gave vent to an Indian war-whoop 
which a Kickapoo Indian had taught 
me and an answering whoop seemed 
to come from each of the hundred shells 
of human souls that were nailed to the 
wall on either side of us. It was truly 
awesome. Before the horrible echoes 
had died away, the Cuban prostrated 
himself on the ground, crying, "I have 
but one wife but one wife!" What he 
meant he knew not himself. He had 
become literally insane with the horror 
of the situation. For those figures were 
not of wax. That was not an Eden 
Musee nor a Madame Tussaud's. I{ 



"Underground T^pme herself has nothing more grewsome than those silent 

corridors of death in Mexico" 

was the real thing. Up from the sublet- took to his heels and ran as if for dear 

ranean corridor we carried the Cuban, life. 

and the moment he reached sunlight he The horseback part of our trip in- 




eluded a thousand-mile ride across 
northern Mexico, ending at Juarez, into 
which town we rode on a Sunday in car- 
nival time. It was the annual carnival 
of three months and ten days preceding 
Easter, known as the "Hundred -Day 
Fiesta." Juarez is one of the places 
where the half-patriotic, half-religious 


celebration is conducted on a wholesale 
scale. Here occurred the adventure of 
the curfew bell. 

With us that day us meaning my wife 
and myself was a young Mexican. Like 
us, he was mounted on a broncho. The 
town was thronged, and among the pleas- 
ure-seekers we rode, taking in the sights 
from the vantage point of the backs of 
our bronchos. There were cockfights in 
the streets, many a Mexican tethering his 
game-cocks to hitching posts outside the 
cathedral before going in to pray. And 
there were bull-fights in the arena. But 

the principal amusement was gambling. 
Nowhere else on earth is gambling so 
common among all classes as in the land 
of Diaz. No peon that day seemed too 
poor, no child too young, to risk his 
coppers in a game of chance. We saw 
peons who earn only twenty-five cents 
a day, risking their last cent. We saw 
parents encouraging their seven-year-old 
daughter- to stake her pennies on roulette.. 
We saw one little six-year urchin smok- 
ing a cigarette while he watched his 
eight-year brother lose coppers at dice." 
Everybody was having a good time 
Mexican fashion, corresponding to the 
American fashion when the circus comes 
to town. 

Night came and found us still a-horse. 
Nine o'clock was tolled by the cathedral 
bells followed by a series of peremptory 
peals. "The curfew!" we heard the 
people saying. A few minutes later a 
gendarme accosted us, saying very po- 
litely that the young senor with us must 

"The policeman means that the boy 
must go home," said a Mexican friend 
who had joined us. "We have here a 
law as ancient as the bells in the cathe- 
dral. It is the curfew law, and it is 
occasionally enforced, because there are 
so many people abroad. It applies to 
the youth of both sexes. All boys and 
girls now on the streets will be told to 
go home." 

On our way out of town we were 
escorting our boy friend back to El Paso, 
just across the Rio Grande we passed 
the police station. Surely enough, the 
soldier-police were bringing boys and 
girls to the station, two, three, four at 
a time. "They'll all be taken home after 
a while," said our guide, friend and 
philosopher. "You could see the two 
bells in the belfry of the cathedral today. 
One is much larger than the other. 
Well, the small bell is to summon peo- 
ple to church. The large bell is rung 
for curfew, the large one being used in 



order that the whole town may hear. 
You have a poem that should have been 
recited here today 'Curfew Shall Not 
Ring Tonight.' " 


The scene changes to the Caribbean 
Sea, off Fortune Island. I had an 
adventure at that West Indian islet that 


I shall never forget. I was on a good 
ship bound for New York from Kings- 
ton, Jamaica. To my everlasting sorrow 
I decided to get off at the lonely, un- 
known isle and wait there for the next 
north-bound ship. 

It must be explained that ships in the 
West Indian service stop at Fortune 
Island on the way south to pick up 
negroes to "work the cargoes" in port. 
Going north, the ships stop at the island 
to put the negroes off. So when my 
Hamburg- American ship stopped to put 
off the negro hands, I too decided to get 
off. As the ship approached the island 
the sky signs promised a hurricane such 
as is characteristic of that tropical sea. 
The ship heaved-to a mile off shore 
and a small boat came to take us off. It 

was almost night when the small boat 
appeared just light enough left to 
photograph, from the ship's side, the 
cockleshell in which I was to be rowed 
ashore before the hurricane struck us, 
I prayed. 

Night falls quickly in the tropics, and 
now night fell, and with it came the 
hurricane. We were in black, fathom- 
less darkness long before the negroes 
were ready to take to the small boat. 
"Don't try to stay alongside!" shouted 
the captain through a megaphone, to the 
man in the boat. Then to the blacks on 
the ship the captain yelled: "Out with 
the hurricane spar!" 

It was not hard to understand these 
orders. Waves swept our deck; the 
ship careened. For the small boat to 
keep alongside would mean destruction 
for it. It must stand "off and clear." So 
out with the hurricane spar, a spar some 
twenty feet long extended at right an- 
gles from the ship's side. When the spar 





was in position, the small boat got un- 
der its outer end. Along that spar I 

7 6 



was supposed to 
to its outer end, 

creep till I came 
and there I was 

to slide down a rope into the boat. 
I watched the blacks perform the feat 
one by one till all were in the boat. 
Then came my turn. To show the 
slightest fear was to lose the respect of 
those blacks to such an extent that they 
would not lend me a helping hand. So, 
without showing any of the mortal terror 
I felt, I began the perilous creep along 
the spar. When I was half-way to the 
end the ship gave a violent lurch and 
the spar dipped into the water carrying 
me in with it. Then put from my bath 
I was lifted, and next moment I was in 
mid-air; for the lurching of the ship the 
other way carried the spar to a dizzy 
height and, of course, carried me with 
it. The next time the spar began to 
dip, I slid desperately down the remain- 
ing distance to the end, and at the cru- 
cial second the blacks in the boat siezed 
me and pulled me into their midst. 

"An army officer whom I had last seen at Alder sbot, England, putting bis 
men through a picturesque 'set-up' drill" 


Bruised and battered and choking with 
salt water, I lay in the bottom of that 
boat not caring whether I lived or died. 
I could see my fellow passengers stand- 
ing on the ship, in the glare of electrics 
along the'rail, calling to me to ask if all 
was right and among them my wife. 
But I had not the strength to raise my 
hand to sign a goodbye. "Look out for 
the propeller!" I heard the captain meg- 




aphone, and next minute the ship was 
under way and quickly pulled out of 

It took the blacks three hours to row 
through the hurricane waves to shore, 



and I, limp as a rag, landed on that 
-God -and -man -forsaken British island. 
When the British agent there told me 
that he had been on the island for ten 
years and loved his post, I looked at 
him in amazement and wondered if he 
were really sane. The thought of that 
hurricane spar made me vow never again 
to allow journalistic duty to put me off 

7 8 


"The Prince and Princess of Wales arrived (at the Tlraemar Gathering) 
in a carriage drawn by four milk-white horses" 

"At Dublin Castle ( Ireland ) / was shown the splendid throne room, so 
unrepresentative of the conditions in the country beyond" 



a comfortable ship. Thereafter I would 
let unknown islands remain unknown. 


From the tropics to the Arctic Circle 
is a far cry but then the special corres- 
pondent must wear seven-league boots. 
The commercial traveler has a certain 

or all t 

{ it may include all the southern 
e northern states, but he travels 

the spectacular attire of the expositions, 
the Lapps when not on show are just 
about as unbeautiful as our own noble 
red men are in their own native places. 
The Lapps, like our Kiowas, eat dog. 
At one hut at which we stopped, the 
kettle was boiling for a dog that lay 
ready for his doom, outside the hut a 
tent made of skins. The Lapps told our 
guide, however, that they killed dogs 

"A peasant cabin in Ireland where boarders were taken in at four cents a 
night and four cents for each meal'' 

that same territory, no matter how big, 
over and over again. The correspon- 
dent's territory is the whole world. So 
I invite the reader to come with me to 
Swedish Lapland. 

I was making a long sled journey to 
take a look at the Lapps. The best I 
can say of them is that they are, in their 
native heath, nothing like the picturesque 
people you see at world's fairs. Instead 
of the coats of many colors, instead of 

only on gala occasions, for they needed 
the dogs to draw their sleds. That must 
have been a gala day for those Lapps, 
for while we were still their guests they 
killed the dog and ate him, head and all. 
Instead of the picture-book trappings 
of rainbow hues, those Lapps wore greasy 
garments of reindeer skin. They chat- 
tered in the shrill voices common to 
people of the northland, offering to sell 
us gaudy baskets and moccasins the 



"At an inn in Algeciras (first town in Spain beyond Gibraltar) were gathered 
Spaniards dressed as you see them on the stage" 

wares for sale being the only things in 
Lapland that in any way resemble the 
Lapp life of the expositions. Along with 
their wares I told the guide to tell them 
that I would buy their little girl. The 
mother, when at .last she understood the 
purport of my proposition, gathered the 
little one in her arms as if to shield her 
from me, showing that the love that 
passeth understanding exists even among 
a people that never heard of a Bible. 

We sledded southward till we came to 
the topmost town in Sweden. That town 
has a hotel that is a marvel to travelers. 
The town is Haparanda and the hotel 
is amazing because, though it stands 
a two-days' sled journey from the nearest 
railway station, yet is equipped and con- 
ducted like the best private country club 
in America. In front of that remark- 
able hostelry our porters packed our sup- 
ply sled for the journey to the aforesaid 
most northerly railway station. 

We were accompanied on that journey 
by twenty members of a Swedish brass 

band, who traveled in ten sleds. The 
band was on the way to a wedding en- 
gagement at a certain Swedish village. 
When we arrived at the village, we de- 
cided to stop here, so thoroughly typical 
was it of Swedish rural life. 

Members of the wedding party were 
snowballing one another when we drove 
into the village. Such was the begin- 
ning of the three-days' festivities that 
were held in honor of the wedding. 
Most of the villagers were on skis 
literally wooden skates twelve feet long 
and a race was run on these skis be- 
tween three peasant women. The bride 
wore her hair in golden plaits down her 
back; her bosom was covered with golden 
ornaments; around her waist was a 
girdle, a masterpiece of Swedish gold- 
smith work; and on her head was a 
crown of silver and copper. "On the 
third day," said our guide, "someone 
.will loosen the pin that holds the crown 
and the bride will dance till the crown 
drops off. That will be the signal that 



the wedding festivities have ended." 

One of our party helped himself so 
freely of the good things of the wedding 
table that he fell ill and we sent for a 
doctor. When we were about to leave 
we asked the guide to get the physician's 
bill. "Doctors never render bills in this 
country," he said. "You give what you 
can afford." And he explained that rich 
and poor alike receive medical atten- 
adnce without a word about payment. 
The wealthy patients pay handsomely, 
the poorer patients give what they can 
afford and the very poor pay nothing. 


In my notebook I find this entry: "On 
board S. S. Fulda, in the Mediterranean 
betwen Gibraltar and Genoa. Awfully 

worried. Miss disappeared while 

ashore in my care at Gib." In the little 
drama explaining this entry, I am a 
mere supernumerary. The chief figure 
in the adventure is a young newspaper 
girl of New York. 

When our ship arrived at Gibraltar a 
number of the passengers went ashore, 
including that newspaper girl and myself. 
At the landing we came to a stone arch 
where we all bought green pasteboard 
tickets reading: "Admit bearer to forti- 
fications till gunfire." I handed one of 
the tickets, numbered seventy-one, to the 
newspaper girl. "Within the fori you 
will be known as seventy-one," I said 
to her. "At nine o'clock you will hear 
a gun. It will mean that you are no 
longer welcome. You will have to leave, 
for strangers are not allowed here after 

"Ain't, eh?" she replied. 

We passed into a busy street. There 
were cigar shops, and Moorish booths 
displaying trifles, and cafes filled with 
soldiers. In one of the cafes I saw an 
English army officer whom I had last 
seen at Aldershot, in England, putting 
his company through a picturesque "set- 
up" drill. I asked the newspaper girl 
to excuse me a moment and stepped into 

the cafe. When I came out the girl 
was nowhere to be seen. 

A dark-skinned boy wanted to sell me 
a fan. I bought his fan, thinking to 
present it to the newspaper girl. But 
where was she? Was she in the booth 
of yonder evil-visaged Moor? No! The 
Moor had not seen her. He blockaded 
his door and leered. 

I went on, determined to achieve the 
object of my visit, which was to see 
Algeciras, the first town in Spain as you 
pass out of Gibraltar, and where the 
people still hate England with a deadly 
hatred, believing that some day Gibraltar 
will again belong to Spain. At an inn in 
Algeciras were gathered Spaniards 
dressed just as you see them on the 
stage. I had some wine with them, 
talked with them till the thought of that 
newspaper girl bothered me so that I 
hastened back to the Rock. 


Confound that gun! Where was that 

"What have you done with seventy- 
one?" asked the officer at the arch. 

The launch below whistled; our big 
steamer out yonder bellowed three times. 
That meant that we must come aboard 
at once. I explained to the officer that 
well, about the girl I left behind me. 
The officer called more officers and they 
looked at one another with serious faces. 
Then some of them hurried up the hill. 
I saw them stop at the booth of the evil- 
looking Moor, who still stood in his 
doorway. Then they hurried on, to pur- 
sue the search elsewhere. 

"I guess that girl wants me to go 
aboard the ship and leave her," I said 
to myself. So aboard I went and 
worried, as my notebook shows. 

When the ship reached Genoa, there 
she stood on the dock waving a bit of 
green pasteboard. "Seventy-one is all 
right!" she said as I joined her. And 
she told me how she had hidden in the 
booth of that rascally Moor; how, late 
in the night, after the ship had sailed, 



she had come forth and pretended igno- 
rance of the regulations; how she had 
then put up at one of the hotels and had 
the next day left by train for Genoa, all 
merely to get a story for her paper. 

But it's bad to be on the high seas 
with a worry especially when it's worry 
about the girl you left behind you. 

Hoot, mon ! I was in the Scotch High- 
lands and it was Autumn and all Scot- 
land was a playground for Americans 
and for royalty. King Edward was at 
Balmoral Castle, having laid aside all 
attributes of monarchship except that of 
King of Scotland. I witnessed the great 
event of the Scotch year, the Braemar 
Gathering, where all sorts of games and 
dances and sports took place in the open 
air, all watched by the king and other 
members of the royal family. The Prince 
and Princess of Wales arrived in a car- 
riage drawn by four milk-white horses, 
with outriders, and were kept like prison- 
ers in a fenced enclosure, a kind of royal 

Here were gathered chiefs of the great 
clans of Scotland, all in Highland cos- 
tume. The king himself wore the uni- 
form of an officer of a Highland regi- 
ment. One day, too, he wore kilts and 
bonnet as the chief of the greatest of the 
clans. That Braemar Gathering is to 
the Scotch social season what the Horse 
Show is to New York. It opens the sea- 

Also there were house parties every- 
where, with American guests much in 
evidence. At Skibo Castle, Mr. Andrew 
Carnegie was giving a house party, with 
the great John Morley as pne of the 
guests. At Dumferline, where Carnegie 
used to romp as a hatless and shoeless 
lad, I got off the train to have a look 
around. The place is not far from Edin- 
burgh, yet I was told that in outward 
aspect it had not much changed since 
the days when "Andy" played there with 
the other children of the poor. At least 

half a dozen cottages were pointed out 
to me each as being the birthplace of the 
boy who was destined to become the 
steel king. 

Leaning against the door of one of the 
poorest looking of the thatched cottages, 
stood an old Scotchman, a minister of 
the "Free Church." He was about as 
typical of Scotland as any man I saw 
anywhere among the clans. "Ay! Andy, 
I well remember he. He was a bonny 
lad, was he," said the minister. "He 
was that slight, and that light-haired, and 
that rosy-cheeked, was he, now more 
than fifty years agone. Ayl and in he 
religion was deep sown. All eagerness 
and all hope, was he. Yonder waterfall 
was his favorite playground. Ay! he 
returned here for a visit the while ago, 
a rich man. From house to house he 
went, and from street to street, and from 
one familiar place to another, like a 
man dazed and with tears streaming 
adown his face. Andy came to this very 
door of mine and he came in and sat him 
doon, and ay! he give me money for the 


From thrifty Scotland, I went to gather 
the facts for articles on "Darkest Ire- 
land," the poorest, unhappiest country 
on earth. At Dublin Castle, I was shown 
the splendid throne room, so unrepre- 
sentative of the conditions in the country 
beyond. There too I saw Lord Dudley, 
the lord-lieutenant, who said: "There 
are people who think the Irishman a 
comic creature. They suppose him to 
be a roaring blade who wears a frieze 
coat, knee breeches, and a hat with a 
pipe in its band; who sleeps with the 
pigs, lives on potatoes and gets drunk 
constantly. People who think that way 
of the Irishman get their ideas from so- 
called Irish plays. A society has been 
formed in Ireland and England, and it 
has some members in America, for the 
purpose of discouraging the caricatures 
of Irishmen portrayed on the stage. ' The 
fact is the Irish peasant is immeasurably 


above his English counterpart in the 
matter of mind. Lead him well, and he 
will achieve anything. If Englishmen 
would come over here and see the Irish 
people with their own eyes, we should 
have an Irish boom. The strange thing 
is that Englishmen travel everywhere 
over the globe excepting in Ireland." 

Two days later I found that the lord- 
lieutenant's implication that no Irish 
peasant sleeps with the pigs and lives 
on potatoes was not founded on actual 
fact. In the lower part of County Done- 
gal, I entered an Irish home of the kind 
the ordinary tourist never sees. The 
home might be called a cabin, but more 
properly a hut. It had only one room. 
The ceiling was black from smoke. A 
quantity of ragged clothing was hanging, 
to dry, on a straw rope. I sat down on 
a stool because to stand up was to keep 
my head in smoke as thick as a London 
fog. As it was, I coughed violently. 
On account of the smoke, I did not at 
first see that a young woman sat in one 
corner feeding a child. Neither she nor 
the child seemed to mind the smoke one 
bit. She took no notice of my intru- 
sion until I attempted to turn round on 
my stool so as to face her. Then she 
said: "Look out, yere arnh'r." 

I "looked out," and there at my feet 
lay a great pig. Though the day was 
warm a peat fire burned on the hearth. 
"Why do you have a fire in this wea- 
ther?" I asked. 

"Sure, yer arnh'r, it may rain again 
at arny moment, and it may be damp 
tonight, and sure there will be complaint 
from the lodgers if there's naw fire." 

"Lodgers?" I asked, amazed. "What 

"Sure, yere arnh'r, we do be board- 

in' and sleepin' the hands that do be 
mending' the road out yarnder." 

"And how much do your boarders 
pay you?" 

"They do be givin' us, yere arnh'r, 
tuppence (four cents) the night and tup- 
pence more the meal.' ' 

"And what do you eat at meals?" 

"Potatis (potatoes), sur." 
, Within a radius of half a mile of this 
hut there were a dozen just like it. I 
went into all of them uninvited. In 
some of the huts, beside the pig, there 
were also a donkey and chickens. The 
only difference was that those who were 
rich enough to own a donkey and chick- 
ens could afford to keep house without 
taking "boarders." I asked one woman 
where her husband was. 

"Sure, he's in Amuriky, yere arnh'r, 
thryin' to git money to bring me and the 
childer to Amuriky too. ' ' 

In Galway a peasant-fisherman came 
ashore, carrying his dug-out on his back. 
"Why do you take your boat so far from 
the water?" I asked, as he plodded on 
up the beach with his burden. 

"God save ye!" he exclaimed. "I 
do have no more use for me boat. I do 
be about to split it for kindling, sur." 

When I asked him why he had deter- 
mined to destroy such an important tool 
of his trade, he replied: "Sure, the ship 
do be lavin' in a few days from Galway, 
for Queenstown. And I do be goin' in 
that ship, sur. 'Tis to Amuriky I do be 
goin', wid all the others hereabouts. 
It's the only way out of our throuble. 
Troth, we've suffered long enough from 
poverty. Indade, we're all disthroyed 
out of this land. It's either the 
workhouse or Amuriky. Glory be 
to God, yere arnh'r, for Amuriky." 

Human bodies are words, myriads of words ; 

In the best poems reappears the body, man's or woman's, well shaped, natural, gay, 

Every part able, active, receptive, without shame or the need of shame. 

Walt Whitman. 

ANECDOTES * By Mary Gregory Hume 


THE old negro cook in a certain Vir- 
ginia family is known, next to the 
excellency of her beaten biscuit and 
fried chicken, for the fervor of her piety 
and her readiness to lead in all "shout- 
ing" and "testifying" in meeting. The 
master of the house, who is a clergyman, 
was therefore considerably surprised and 
grieved on discovering "Aunt 'Cindy," 
late one evening, setting out for home 
with a fowl concealed beneath her apron. 
"Now, Aunt Cindy," remonstrated he, 
reproachfully, "aren't you ashamed to go 
back on your religion like this? How 
can you pray and sing hymns with this 
sin on your conscience? Do you think 
you can deceive the Lord?" "Law! 
Marse Tom," exclaimed the convicted 
saint indignantly, with a heavenward roll 
of the eye, "You doan' think I gwinter 
let dis here one small chicken stand 
'tween me and my Jesus 1" 


A LITTLE girl in the South was over- 
heard by her mother engaged in a 
spirited word-encounter with a playmate. 
Mrs. B. was much distressed. She called 
her small daughter to her and talked to 
her gently and sadly of her wrong-doing. 
"Beside being unladylike to quarrel, 
you know, Margaret, that it is very sin- 
ful. Now, when you say your prayers 
this evening you must tell our Father 
of your sin and ask His forgiveness." 

As Mrs. B. was tucking Margaret in 
for the night she asked softly, "And did 
my little girl do as Mamma bade her?" 

"Yes, Mamma," came the quick reply. 
"I did tell God and He said: 'Pray, 
Miss Brooks, don't mention it!'" 

II R. "BUN" Sawyer, keeper of the 
village hotel, is not only a shrewd 
business man but an acute critic of men 
and letters as well. "Books!" he de- 
clared on one occasion, "No siree! the 
books nowadays don't suit a plain man 
like me. I want folks to say what they've 
got to say right out; but half the time 
you can't tell what these writing chaps 
are driving at, they've such imaginary 


AN elderly Southern lady who was 
passing through Richmond, Virginia, 
for the first time, found that she had 
several hours to wait between trains apd 
resolved to spend this time gettfhg an 
impression of the historic capital of the 
Old Dominion. Picking out as her 
cicerone a kindly-faced, gray-haired old 
darky, she climbed into his hack, bid- 
ding him drive her through the city and 
point out the various objects of interest 
as they passed along. "Uncle Jerry" 
complied, indicating with enthusiastic 
pride the Capitol, the fine Washington 
monument, and other historic and beau- 
tiful points. At last, drawing his horse 
to a standstill, he turned to her and said 
solemnly, with an impressive wave of 
the hand, "En' dar, dar am de house 
ob Edgar A. Poet!" 


CIR HENRY IRVING, during one of 
his tours in "Dixie," was the guest- 
of-honor at a reception at which were 
present all the beauty and culture of the 
Southern city. 


A handsome young woman in the re- glass, darkly, and am glad to meet you 

ceiving party, who had occupied a dis- face to facel" 

tant seat in the theater at his first per- Delighted with her beauty and 

formance, extending her hand to him quickness of wit, the famous actor 

with a charming smile, exclaimed: "This begged her to accept a box in the 

is indeed a privilege, Sir Henry. Here- theater for his appearance the follow- 

tofore I have seen you only through a ing night. 



TIME was, when in my boyhood's home 
I dreamed both day and night (none knew) 
Of long, straight roads where I should roam 
Free as the warm South wind that blew 
Meadow and orchard idly through. 
Other designs had Fate for me, 

More to my taste, as time proved true : 
Witness the infant on my knee. 


Later I felt I was foreordained 
(Touched by a Fairy at my first cry) 

The world well lost for a true love gained 
In red men's forays to fight or fly, 
There mate and marry, there live and die. 

Fate smiled behind her fan at me, 
Never an Indian maid knew I : 

Witness the infant on my knee. 


Dreams and visions alike forgot, 
Fame was the lure that led me long, 

Wealth passed by and I knew it not ; 
I staked my all on a vagrant song 
That died unheard in the heedless throng. 

Then Fate had pity, as all may see, 
And made me amends for her great wrong : 

Witness the infant on my knee. 


Prince, happy is he whom Fate befriends, 
Or low or high though his lot may be ; 

When she at the last her best gift sends : 
Witness the infant on my knee. 

Frank Putnam 



By C. W. Tyler 





death of her grandmother and the 
burning of the family home, went to 
reside with a relative on her mother's 
side who was in comfortable circumstan- 
ces and lived not far away. The girl 
herself was no pauper. She owned now 
the Bascombe place, with the personal 
property attached thereto, and there was 
a little beside in the way of notes and 
money, for the old lady had been frugal 
in her time. .Altogether, while almost 
anywhere else in the world her estate 
would have been deemed a very small 
one, in the particular locality where she 
resided it was sufficient to supply her 

modest necessities and establish for her 
the desirable reputation of being inde- 
pendent. She was a girl with a pretty 
good business head, resembling her 
grandmother in this as in many other 
particulars, and it was the general opin- 
ion in the community that, if she re- 
mained a spinster, she would be more 
apt to add to her respectable patrimony 
than to waste it. 

One morning, about a fortnight after 
the robbery of the Hopsons, as she stood 
at a front window of the house she now 
occupied as a home, the girl noticed 
a little negro boy, with a small dog at 
his heels, approaching the residence in 

THE K. K. K. 

an unusual manner. An open wood lay 
immediately in front of the house, and 
the lad in making progress dodged behind 
first one tree and then another, as if he 
were an Indian who was minded, when 
he got sufficiently near, to rush up and 
tomahawk the family. Not fully under- 
standing the significance of these maneu- 
vers, Sue kept her eye on him, and 
finally observed him crouch behind the 
woodpile, a little distance beyond the 
yard enclosure. Determined to ascer- 
tain the character of his business, if 
he had any, she left the house, and, 
advancing promptly upon his place of 
retreat, soon stood close beside him. 

"Please, mum," said the urchin, rising 
when she came to a halt and looked at 
him inquiringly. "I'm Sandy's little 
boy Sandy Kinchen, mum, what didn't 
split ole Miss Bascombe's head open wid 
dat ax." 

As he submitted this remark Miss 
Bascombe took a calm survey of the 
visitor's person. His raiment was a 
long, ragged shirt, not over-clean, which 
hung upon him so loosely that there 
seemed imminent danger all the while 
of its forsaking his body and slipping 
to the ground. He was hatless, and as 
it was Summer time, it goes without say- 
ing that he was barefoot. Indeed, his 
ragged shirt was his costume, and, that 
having been intended by the maker for 
some much larger person, and being 
without a fastening of any kind at the 
throat, was kept on, seemingly, by fre- 
quent shoulder-shrugs and occasional 
clutches from apprehensive fingers. 

"Please, mum," repeated the lad, 
"I'm Sandy's little boy; and I seed him 
dis very mornin' me and Jineral Beau- 
regard did." 

"Seed who dis very mornin'?" in- 
quired the girl, surprised at what she 
heard, and unconsciously imitating the 
boy's tone and language. 

"Him, mum; him what did split ole 
Mis Bascombe's head open wid de ax. 
I seed him." 

" You don't mean " 

"Yas'm, I means him what folk calls 
de Flyin' Dutchman. I seed him." 

She looked at him for a moment in 
perplexity, hardly knowing what was 
best to be done under the circumstances. 

"You ain' gwy give me away, is you? 
Kase if you does me and Jineral Beaure- 
gard is bofe dead men." 

She shook her head. "Where did you 
see that man?" she asked. "Who told 
you to bring this tale to me?" 

"Dey ain't nobody told me. I went 
to find Marse Ran, and he wa'n't at 
home. Den I come to you." 

"Well, tell me now where you saw this 

"You ain' gwy never give me away?" 

She shook her head again. 

"Wai, den, I'm gwy tell you. Dis 
mornin' I was a huntin' for de muley 
cow what Marse Ran gin mammy when 
he sot her up a housekeepin'. She 
strayed off de cow did she all de time 
at dat and never come home last night, 
but mammy she 'lowed she heard de 
bell way off on de side of de hill. Dis 
mornin' 'fo' day me and Jineral Beau- 
regard, we was 'bleeged to go for to get 
de cow and drive de cow home. We 
climb 'long up on de side of de ridge, 
and when we done got most to de top 
Jineral Beauregard he tuck out after 
a rabbit, like I done tole him many a 
time not to do. He run dat rabbit into 
de thick briar patch what grows close 
up agin de big bluff dey calls de chalk 
bluff. When he got in dar I heerd him 
a-growlin' and a-snappin' like he done 
run up agin sumpen he wa'n't 'spectin' 
to find. I crep' up tolerable clost, I did, 
and den I lay down, kase I didn't know 
zactly what 'twas Jineral Beauregard 
done run up agin in de briar patch. 
Presently I heerd him holler, and he 
come running out'n de briar patch and 
made for the place whar he leff me. 
Den I heerd sumpen comin' behind him. 
I been huntin' for de cow, and fust I 
thought it was de cow, but den in a 



minit I know'd it wa'n't de cow, kase it 
walked too light for de cow. Hit come 
out'n de briar patch, and hit come on to 
the aidge of de broom-sage field what 
stand about de briar patch, walkin' 
kinder tiptoe. It wa'n't hardly light 
good, but I seed him, and I know'd him, 
and hit was de Flyin' Dutchman. He 
stood dar a little while, he did, and den 
he crep' back to'ds de briar patch. 'Bout 
dat time here come Jineral Beauregard 
crawlin' on his belly, kase he done been 
to de place whar I was, and struck my 
trail, and he was skeer'd. Den I backed 
away from dar on my all- fours, and soon 
as I got a little piece off I riz and run 
for all I was wuth; and I ain't found dat 
cow yit." 

He ended his tale here, and stood 
looking at her; and the dog sat up dog- 
fashion and looked at her. It was an 
active little dog, of the fox terrier 
variety, with its tail bobbed and ears 
sharpened, so as to impart to it a fiercer 
appearance than it would naturally have 

"Where is the briar patch you speak 
of?" inquired Sue. "Would you know 
if you were to see it again?" 

"Yas'm, I'd know it," responded the 
lad. "But I ain't gwine 'bout dar no 
mo' I tells you dat." 

"How will others find the place 

"Dar's a dead tree clost to the aidge 
of de briar patch, and a hawk or a buz- 
zard most all the time a-settin' on a limb 
of dat tree. Ef I could find Marse Ran, 
I mout take him to whar I could pint out 
dat tree to him. Right dar I'm gwy 

"You say you've been to Marse Ran's 
house this morning?" 


"And he was not at home?" 


"Did they tell you where he was?" 

"Dey say dey didn't know. Dat's de 
reason I come here. I thought you 
mout know." 

She reflected a short time; then she 
asked the little boy : 

"Have you had your breakfast?" 

"Naw'm; me nur Jineral Beauregard 
ain't nary one had our breakfast." 

"Come with me and I'll get you some- 
thing to eat." 

She escorted the boy and the dog to a 
spot in the back yard and instructed the 
cook to administer to their bodily wants. 
She then told the lad not to leave the 
premises until she dismissed him, and, 
going into the house, she wrote a short 
note to a young farmer friend of hers, 
named Mclntosh, who resided in the 
immediate neighborhood. This she dis- 
patched by a house servant and awaited 
an answer. 

Within an hour, Mclntosh, as re- 
quested in the note, reported in person 
to Miss Bascombe, and she gave him the 
substance of the boy's story. It was 
agreed between them that Pearson must 
be found without delay, as it was all- 
important that the murderer's hiding 
place should be surrounded before the 
sun went down. As the dog had dis- 
turbed him, he would no doubt suspect 
the near presence of some human being, 
and would almost certainly shift his 
quarters that night. Mclntosh agreed 
to go in search of Pearson, and suggested 
that the lad be detained until the arrival 
of the latter. Pete was sent for and told 
to await further orders in the back yard, 
but he shook his head. Finding him in- 
disposed to talk in the presence of a 
stranger, Sue escorted him back to the 
woodpile, where the conference had 

"I dunno nuthin' 'bout dat man," said 
the lad, pointing with his thumb back 
over his shoulder towards the house. "I 
ain't gwy talk where he is. He mout 
give me away." 

"Very well. I've sent for Marse Ran. 
You stay here until he comes." 

Pete shook his head again. 

"Can't you stay?" 

"Naw'm; my mammy don't low me 

THE K. K. K. 


to loaf round de country. She done 
tole me dat many times." 

"I want Marse Ran to talk with you. 
How can he see you if you go away?" 

The lad reflected a while before he 

"You tell him to ride down de road 
twell he gits to de place whar de crick 
crosses it, beyant Marse Billy Winston's. 
When he crosses de crick let him ride 
on slow a little piece furder. Me and 
Jineral Beauregard will be in de woods 
on t'other side de crick waitin' for 

"How long can you wait there?" 

"I kin wait dar all day." 

"And you will wait till Marse Ran 


"All right; he will ride down that 
road just as soon as I can find him and 
send him along. You and your dog can 
go now." 

"You ain't gwy give us away?" 


"Dis here yuther white man in de 
house, he ain't gwy give us away?" 


The lad turned and left the premises, 
with the ever-faithful General Beaure- 
gard at his heels. She walked back into 
the house, and Teddy Mclntosh in a few 
minutes was off on a quest for Pearson. 
He found him about noon, and after 
a brief conference Teddy was sent off 
to summon about fifteen or twenty trusted 
men, while Pearson proceeded without 
delay to the place on the highway where 
he was to meet the boy. Mclntosh him- 
self, and all the citizens he was to notify, 
were members of the organization which 
had been recently formed. The purpose 
was to assemble these as quietly as pos- 
sible and capture the murderer before the 
general public had learned that his lurk- 
ing place had been discovered. With 
this end in view, Mclntosh was in- 
structed to be as reserved as the nature 
of his errand would permit, and to cau- 
tion each man notified not to confer with 

others outside the order, but to go quietly 
to a designated spot to which Pearson 
was to return after his interview with the 

In the very nature of things, however, 
it was impossible to keep from the com- 
munity a grave secret which had to be 
imparted in rapid succession to fifteen 
or twenty different farmers scattered 
about over the neighborhood. The 
very fact that secrecy was sought to 
be preserved, perhaps, caused the truth, 
or a suspicion of the truth, to spread 
more rapidly over the country, and it 
was soon generally understood that 
something was in the wind, and that 
Sue Bascombe could tell all about it 
if she would. Very soon this young 
lady had more company than she cared 
to entertain, and was asked more ques- 
tions than she could politely parry; so, 
being a matter-of-fact girl, she plainly 
told all comers that a secret of some con- 
sequence had been imparted to her that 
morning, and that she proposed to keep 
it. Everybody then jumped to the con- 
clusion that those in the secret had got- 
ten on the fresh trail of the murderer, 
and, being determined to join in the 
chase, boys and men soon gathered from 
the four points of the compass, and, by 
following those who had been summoned, 
rallied with the members of the clan at 
the appointed place of rendezvous. Here 
they remained for quite a while, talking 
with each other in loud and excited tones, 
and waiting impatiently for they knew 
not what. 

Pearson, following the directions that 
had been given him, met the negro boy 
Pete in the wood beyond the creek, and 
was escorted to a rising piece of ground 
at a considerable distance from the road. 
A tall, dead tree was then pointed out, 
about a half-mile still further on, and 
near the summit of the ridge which the 
two were ascending. 

"Dar whar he is," said the boy. 
"Dat tree is on the aidge of a little 
broom sage field, and in dat broom sage 


field you gwy find at de fur end a briar 
patch so thick dat a hog couldn't git 
through widout scratchin' hisseff more'n 
he gwy scratch hisseff ef he kin help it. 
Right in dar is dat Flyin' Dutchman, 
which is buzzum friend to de devil. Jin- 
eral Beauregard found him dar this morn- 
in', and dar he is right now ef he ain't 
riz up and flewd off somewhars else." 

Pearson noted the place carefully, and 
after thanking the boy and rewarding him 
with a silver coin, he led his horse back 
to the road, and, mounting, galloped to- 
ward the spot where the others had been 
directed to await his coming. Here he 
found a much larger crowd than he had 
expected or wished to see. The captain 
and several others of the secret order 
were absent, and Pearson took command 
therefore of the entire assemblage, tell- 
ing them if they wished to capture the 
outlaw they must proceed quietly and 
obey orders literally. After proceeding 
a short distance, he placed himself at 
the head of about a dozen picked men, 
instructing Mclntosh, with the rest of 
the assemblage, about ten times as 
numerous, to follow on without noise 
or discourse a few hundred yards in the 
rear. This order was obeyed for awhile 
with reasonable strictness, but as the 
<yowd advanced they became more im- 
patient and more unmanagable, and 
before they had accomplished half of 
their proposed journey, they trod close 
on the heels of the advance guard. Pear- 
son, in low tones, cautioned them all to 
be quiet, and, calling a halt here, he in- 
structed those constituting the advance 
guard to hasten forward rapidly, while 
he himself remained behind, and for 
JL brief while held the crowd in check. 
The picked detachment now proceeded 
noiselessly with all dispatch, and soon 
reached the small broom-sedge field of 
two or three acres, with the locality 
of which some of them were familiar. 
Dispersing here as skirmishers, they 
closed in promptly on the briar thicket 
that grew against the bluff on the upper 

side. Before they had quite succeeded 
in doing this the crowd in the rear was 
heard approaching again in disorder, for 
Pearson had found it impossible to re- 
strain them. So tumultuously did those 
now rush forward that it was evident the 
murderer would be aroused to a sense 
of his dangers, if he had not already 
made his escape. Rushing into the 
broom-sedge field waist high and in 
thick clusters, they pressed forward 
hurriedly, and without pretense of order, 
upon the skirmish line in front. While 
they were thus intent on reaching the 
murderer's supposed hiding-place close 
against the bluff, suddenly from their 
midst, and in the rear of most of them, 
a wild-looking creature arose, and, with- 
out utterance of any kind, darted swiftly 
down the hill in the direction from which 
they had come. The front detachment, 
the men being a considerable distance 
apart, had passed him without notice, 
and none of those rushing pellmell in 
the rear had thought to examine nar- 
rowly the thick broom sedge to see if 
a human being was lurking there. 

"Here he goes! here he goes!" cried 
a few of those next at hand, when the 
fugitive made his break from the midst 
of the crowd assembled to capture him. 
Then a pistol shot rang out, confused 
cries arose, and the most part for a few 
moments were uncertain as to the cause 
of the disturbance. Presently, however, 
they were given to understand that the 
game had been jumped and was scurry- 
ing away, and, facing about as hurriedly 
as they could, they gave rapid pursuit, 
each man for himself. 

Those composing the skirmish line 
were in front when the outcry was 
raised, and consequently brought up 
the rear as the whole assemblage faced 
about and gave mad chase down the hill. 
The pursuit was so reckless that the men 
engaged in it impeded each other in 
their efforts to make speed. Pistol shots 
were fired at random, and the foremost 
among the pursuers for a few moments 

THE K. K. K, 

9 1 

found themselves in more danger than 
the fugitive himself. This wild shooting 
ceased after a little angry remonstrance, 
and the mob for it was nothing else- 
set out on a dead run down the hill, 
determined to capture or kill the scoun- 
drel in front before the chase was over. 

The murderer sped now as only a des- 
perate wretch can who feels that his life 
depends upon his fleetness of foot. 
Springing madly down the steep side 
of the ridge, he did not take steps as 
a human being ordinarily would, but 
went forward by great -leaps, like a 
hunted deer, with the pack in full cry 
behind him. It was plain to see, too, 
that he was making headway on his 
pursuers, and yells of vengeance arose 
in his rear, which prompted him to re- 
newed effort. Shots were still fired at 
him by those nearest, bullets whizzed 
around him, but these neither pierced 
his body nor frightened him as was 
hoped into halting and surrendering. 
He felt sure that instant death would 
be his portion if he was caught, and 
therefore resolved to take all chances 
rather than become a prisoner. Now he 
leaped through bushes that snatched 
from him fragments of his already scant 
supply of clothing; now he tripped and 
fell in his desperate race, but rising, 
sped onward without pause in his flight; 
now ducking his head to dodge deadly 
missiles; now running erect to facilitate 
speed, he dashed without thought as to 
whither his steps were bent, away, away, 
away from the mob yelling madly in his 

Two or three vicious cur dogs, that 
had been brought along by their owners, 
now distanced all human competitors in 
the chase, and, closing in on the fleeing 
outlaw, began snapping at him, occa- 
sionally sinking their sharp teeth into 
his flesh, so as to cause the blood to flow 
freely. He heeded them not the least 
most probably in his excitement was 
scarcely aware of their presence and, 
with his whole mind centered on the 

supreme effort he was making, ran with 
all his might the desperate race before 
him. Near the foot of the hill was a 
narrow country road which he must 
cross, and as he leaped nimbly into this 
he found himself within a few feet of 
a man on horseback, who apparently had 
been awaiting his approach. 

"Halt!" said the man on horseback, 
aiming at the same time an ugly-looking 
pistol at the fugitive. 

Ankerstrom halted, and looking up, 
recognized the individual who had 
brought him to a stand. It was Sheriff 
Sanderson. Pearson had sent a runner 
for him, and he arrived on the scene of 
action just in time to render efficient 
service to the cause of justice. He sat 
quietly on his horse, with his pistol 
directed toward the panting murderer, 
and his forefinger resting lightly against 
the trigger. In a few seconds the angry 
mob was down upop them. As they 
recognized the figure of Ankerstrom 
standing close by in the road the fore- 
most raised a yell of triumph, but when 
they caught sight of the sheriff and his 
pistol, they discreetly came to a halt 
also, not caring to bring themselves 
directly in range. 

Sheriff Sanderson was a brave man, 
and one who was minded at all times to 
do his duty as a public officer. He saw 
now, however, that it would be impossi- 
ble for him to protect the panting wretch 
before him from the vengeance of his 
pursuers, unless there were among those 
giving chase a few prudent men who 
could be induced to come to the aid of 
the law. Angry citizens now filled the 
road behind him and formed a surging 
line on both sides in front, leaving open 
only the narrow space covered by his 
pistol, in the center of which stood the 
scowling, panting captive. Casting his 
eye over the excited mass of human 
beings, he recognized Randolph Pearson 
standing in the rear among the latest 
arrivals on the ground. 

"I want ten good men to assist me in 


taking this fellow to jail," proclaimed 
the sheriff in a calm tone. Who will 

"I will," responded Pearson promptly. 
"And I think there are others here who 
will be willing to aid in upholding the 

As Pearson said this he pushed his 
way through the crowd in front of him, 
and stepping into the road in front of the 
sheriff's pistol, he laid his hands on 

"I want ten men," said the sheriff. 
"Who else will volunteer?" 

One by one nine other men stepped 
into the road, and, each with his pistol 
in his hand, formed a guard around the 

The sheriff then addressed those about 
him pleasantly. 

"You see how 'tis, men," he said. 
"This here fellow's got to go to jail with 

"It's a damned shame," cried an 
angry man in the crowd. 

"It's an infernal outrage," proclaimed 

"Let's take the scoundrel and hang 
him to a limb," shouted a third indi- 

"There's a law in this country, gentle- 
men," calmly replied the sheriff. 

By this time Ankerstrom' s wrists had 
been securely linked with a pair of hand- 
cuffs which the sheriff drew from his 
pocket for the purpose. He snarled like 
a caged animal as they fettered him, but 
made no actual resistance, for he knew 
their protection afforded him a tem- 
porary respite from the hanging he de- 
served. Pearson now stepped back a 
little way from the prisoner, and in a 
few earnest words addressed the embit- 
tered mob of men and boys about 

"I know you are all indignant," he 
said, "and it is not at all surprising that 
you should be. If ever a fellow on earth 
deserved hanging I reckon this scoundrel 
here does; but it doesn't follow that we 

should take it on ourselves to do the 
hanging. As Sheriff Sanderson says, 
there's a law in this country. If we 
override the law, we not only teach 
others to do the same, but we bring our 
community into disrepute before the 

"When monstrous outrages cease, mob 
law will cease," cried a man in the 

"I've heard that remark before," re- 
plied Pearson, "and, in my opinion, the 
man that utters it offers a very poor 
excuse for an' indefensible act. The 
question for us, my friends, is not 
whether criminals shall be punished for 
their misdeeds, but whether in this en- 
lightened age we can find no better 
method of suppressing crime than having 
angry mobs rise up in haste to wreak 
vengeance on the supposed offender. I 
believe I know this vile creature here 
to be worthy of death, but let the law 
be his executioner." 

"Suppose the law won't do it?" 

"I'll not admit that until I'm com- 
pelled to admit it," replied Pearson. 
"You need have no apprehension, my 
friends," he continued, raising his voice 
so that all could hear. "This is a plain 
case, and justice will be speedily admin- 
istered through the courts. Grave crimes 
must be punished, and promptly pun- 
ished. Honest men and women must 
have protection against midnight mur- 
derers and other horrible villains. But 
trust to the law, trust to the law. Let 
us not advertise to the world that we 
have evils which our laws are incapable 
of redressing." 

So Sheriff Sanderson and a respect- 
able posse comitatus escorted the rascal, 
Johan Ankerstrom, to the county jail. 
The crowd that had given such hot pur- 
suit was compelled to disband without 
wreaking vengeance on the object of 
their chase. The search for the mur- 
derer of the widow Bascombe was at last 
ended, and the people of the community 
slept more soundly when they learned 

THE K. K. K. 


that the savage creature of whom all 
stood in dread had been caught running 

wild on the hills and was fast locked 
behind prison doors. 


li/HEN Sheriff Sanderson had eaten 
his supper and smoked his pipe, he 
ordered two fresh horses brought round 
from the stable, in the rear of the jail. 
He was a good farmer as well as an 
efficient officer of the state, was Sheriff 
Sanderson, and known all the country 
round as an excellent judge of horse- 
flesh. On his well-kept place, a little 
way out from the county town, he raised 
stock of all kinds for the market, and in 
his business trips over his bailiwick he 
often effected sales to purchasers who 
had ready cash, or whose credit was 
known by him to be good. Everybody 
understands that horse-traders, as a rule, 
are common liars, but Sanderson could 
be relied on to state candidly even the 
demerits of the animal he was offering 
to dispose of. He would have scorned 
to file the teeth of an old horse to make 
his mouth belie his years, and for no 
consideration would he have foisted a 
moon-eyed animal off on a customer 
at a time when the earth's satellite was 
at a stage most favorable for the execu- 
tion of such a scheme. In lieu of all 
such contemptible tricks of the trade, he 
sought to build up for himself a repu- 
tation for honesty and fair-dealing, and 
there can be no doubt about the fact 
that he profited by this course in the 
long run. 

Tonight, as said, the sheriff ordered 
brought round from his stable two of 
his best horses, which indicated that he 
was minded to go upon a journey of 
some length. The animals, being led 
forth, were fastened to a rack near the 

gate, while the officer sat on the front 
steps of the building that was occupied 
both as a prison and a residence. 

Presently came one on horseback, and, 
reining up at the gate, cried "Hello," 
which is the common method of saluta- 
tion in that benighted part of the world. 
The sheriff, without reply, retired into 
the house and soon reissued with an- 
other gentleman, who must have been 
a particular friend of his, as he held 
him affectionately by the arm. By the 
time these two reached the gate the indi- 
vidual who cried "Hello," had dis- 
mounted and unhitched the horses that 
stood tied to the rack. When the sheriff 
and his friend came up he assisted the 
latter to mount, and the three then rode 
away from the jail, proceeding at a leis- 
urely gait. They did not pass through 
the town, but circled around it and came 
on the far side into a broad, beaten high- 
way, which they followed. The general 
direction of this road was down the 
Cumberland river, though for much of 
the way it ran a considerable distance 
from the stream. It was known as the 
Coopertown road, and led to a burg by 
that name about thirty miles below, on 
the river. If the horsemen were bound 
for this place it was evident they had an 
all-night ride before them. 

As the three horsemen proceeded along 
this river road, the singular circumstance 
might have been noticed that one of them 
traveled with his wrists fastened together 
in front, while his arms were pinioned 
close to his body by a strap that bound 
them firmly from behind. This man 



rode always in the center, one of his 
companions preceding him, while the 
other, the sheriff, brought up the rear. 
A rope halter was fastened to the bridle 
of his horse, and by means of this the 
individual in front led the animal 
along. The man with his arms pinioned 
could not have guided his steed, there- 
fore, if he had so chosen. He might 
have leaped from his horse and made off 
on foot, but refrained perhaps from fear 
of being checked by a pistol-ball from 
the quiet individual who journeyed in 
his rear. Thus they rode on in silence, 
nothing but the steady tramp of the 
horses informing the folk along the road 
that a party of mounted men were pass- 
ing in the night. 

Several hours after Sheriff Sanderson 
and his two companions had set out from 
the jail a company of forty or fifty horse- 
men rode two by two down the main 
street of the village. It was now past 
midnight. The lights in the houses had 
all been extinguished and the stores had 
been barred and shuttered until the fol- 
lowing day. Deep sleep had fallen on 
most of the dwellers of the place, and 
only the aimless barking of dogs dis- 
turbed the quiet of the night. As the 
horsemen entered the town these dogs 
discovered something to bark at, and 
opened up with redoubled vociferation 
and vehemence. Signs of life now came 
from the houses along the way. Here 
and there a shutter was cautiously 
opened and hurriedly closed again. 

When the horsemen reached the 
square they came to a halt. About a 
third of the number here dismounted, 
leaving their horses to the care of the 
remainder. Those on foot then pro- 
ceeded noiselessly, but rapidly, toward 
the jail. All was dark as they ap- 
proached. Reaching the front door of 
the building one of the number rapped 
loudly upon it. 

A light appeared from an upper 
window and a woman's head was thrust 
out. ''What is it?" inquired this 

woman, in a high, shrill tone, which 
those below thought indicative of ner- 

"We've got a prisoner here, ma'am," 
replied one of the party at the door. 
"A chap from Nashville that there's 
a pretty good reward for. Ask your hus- 
band to come down and get him, for we 
want to be quit of him. ' ' 

"John isn't here right now," said the 
woman at the window, "and he tells me 
never to open the door at night when 
he's away. Come back again in the 

"That's rather hard on us. Where 

"Oh, I don't know; uptown, maybe 
I don't know." 

"Tell us where he is and we'll go 
hunt him." 

"Oh, you couldn't find him, I reckon. 
I almost know you couldn't. Come back 
again in the morning." 

"Mrs. Sanderson," said the gentleman 
below, who was spokesman for the party, 
"you ought to know me. This is Wat- 
kins, from up on Marrowbone Creek. I 
voted for your husband the last tune he 
run, and I'm going to do the same thing 
the next time I get a chance. You know 
me, don't you, Mrs. Sanderson?" 

"Why, for sure ! That isn't Billy Wat- 
kins that married Betty Hightower, 
is it?" 

"Just exactly who it is, ma'am." 

"Well, I declare!" 

"Let us in now, please, ma'am. We 
are all dead tired and want to get some 
sleep tonight. Give us the keys and 
we'll lock this fellow up ourselves." 

"You're right sure that's Billy Wat- 
kins that married Betty Hightower?" 

"No mistake in the world about it, 
Mrs. Sanderson. I can prove it by all 
these gentlemen here with me." 

"This is Billy Watkins, ma'am," as- 
serted several of that gentleman's com- 
panions. "It's him and no mistake." 

"Well, then, I suppose I'll have to let 
you all in. It's dead against John's 

THE K. K. K. 


rules, but I reckon I'll have to do it." 

The head was withdrawn from the 
upper window and a woman's light step 
was soon heard on the stairway, accom- 
panied by the jingling of keys. There 
was a fumbling about the lock, an im- 
patient exclamation or two from the in- 
side and the bolt was drawn back and 
the ponderous door swung wide open. 

A dozen strong men swarmed into the 
hall and surrounded the sheriff's wife. 
"Mrs. Sanderson," explained Mr. Wat- 
kins, politely, "we don't wish to alarm 
you. We're not going to hurt you, 
ma'am; you may rest assured of that. 
We've come for that scoundrel, Cross- 
eyed Jack, though, and have him we 
must and will. So please, ma'am, give 
us up the keys." 

"Why, gentlemen, replied the sheriff's 
wife, pleasantly, "John took that fellow 
away with him directly after supper, and 
where he's gone to goodness only 

"I thought you said John was uptown 

"Oh, so I did, Mr. Watkins. One 
has to tell little fibs sometimes in this 
business. You gentlemen surely under- 
stand that." 

"May we search the house?" 

"Oh, certainly. I'll go around with 
you. We've only got two prisoners just 
now; one a white boy charged with 
being crazy; the other a negro for shoot- 
ing craps." 

Watkins and Mrs. Sanderson went up 
and inspected the two prisoners, who 
were both asleep on one pallet. There 
was another cell or cage in the larger 
room, but it was empty. On the return 
trip Watkins came first down the stair- 
way, while Mrs. Sanderson followed, 
jingling her keys. When they reached 
the lower hall where the others waited, 
they all stood regarding each other in 

"This is bad," said Watkins, after a 
little, in a disappointed tone. 

"It is, indeed," replied Mrs. Sander- 

son, sighing as if she had met with a 

Then the men in the hall stood 'round 
awkwardly a few minutes longer. 

"How is Betty Hightower these days?" 
inquired Mrs. Sanderson, politely. 

"She's well enough, I reckon," an- 
swered Mr. Watkins, gruffly. 

Then the men, one by one, passed out 
at the front door, only two or three say- 
ing "Good night." When they reached 
the street some indulged in profane lan- 
guage, while others laughed aloud. Mrs. 
Sanderson bolted the door behind them, 
and, going upstairs, resumed her nap 
where she had left off a half-hour before. 

It was broad daylight when the sheriff 
and his night-riding friends reached the 
respectable city of Coopertown, perched 
high on the banks of the swiftly-flowing 
Cumberland. They proceeded directly 
to a strongly constructed building, with 
barred windows, situated not far from 
the water's edge, and here the three dis- 
mounted. By the cheerful light of day 
it could be easily discerned that the in- 
dividual who had ridden between the 
other two men was decidedly cross-eyed 
and of repulsive visage generally. This 
individual was now turned over to the 
keeper of the strong building and a 
receipt taken for him, as if he had been 
a piece of baggage. This formality dis- 
pensed with, the cross-eyed man was 
locked up in a rather cramped apart- 
ment, while Sanderson and his remain- 
ing companion of the night ride sat down 
with the head of the establishment to a 
hearty breakfast. The party hobnobbed 
here pleasantly for an hour or so, for 
they were all on excellent terms, and 
before they separated Sanderson sold 
a horse to the head of the establishment, 
who never had occasion, that I know of, 
to repent of his bargain. 

John Ankerstrom, alias Cross-eyed 
Jack, languished in prison at Cooper- 
town from day to day, and from week 
to week, and was by all odds, the jailer 
said, the most disagreeable boarder that 

9 6 


had ever found lodging within the walls 
of his house. He sulked, grumbled 
about his fare and everything else, and 
when the least provoked uttered guttural 
oaths in fragments of several different 

Finally he called for pen and paper 
and wrote a scrawling, whining letter 
back to the home of his childhood, 
saying he was in a desperate predica- 

ment and needed help. The sheriff 
thought he had summed up the situa- 
tion correctly and promised to mail 
the document for him. This promise 
he speedily complied with, and never 
received from the vicious Johan even 
a "thanks" for his courtesy. As to 
whether the recipients of the ruffian's 
message treated him with equal indiffer- 
ence, the reader will soon be informed. 



DEATS all the damned doings that 
ever was heard of," cried Lawyer 
Palaver, clapping his clenched fist down 
emphatically upon the table. "Why, 
sir, they ran my man round up yonder 
in that infernal hill country as if he had 
been a rabbit chased him, sir, with 
dogs through a briar thicket and a broom- 
sedge patch; tore his clothes, bloodied 
his legs and sent bullets whizzing around 
his head while he was running. Oh, 
they are great fellows, up in that coun- 
try, I can tell you." 

"That's pretty bad," said the friend, 
who was taking a convivial glass with 
the lawyer. "What had your man done?" 

"Done? Why, sir, you'll be astonished 
to learn he hadn't done a damned thing 
except to flee from the wrath to come 
when a howling mob was at his heels. 
They've got no case at all against my 
man, I tell you. No case at all. Mark 
my prediction, sir, the jury won't be out 
ten minutes, after they hear the judge's 
charge, before they bring in a verdict of 
acquittal. No, sir, I'm damned if I 
believe they'll ever leave the box." 

"How was it the mob got after your 
man so hotly?" - 

"No wonder you inquire, sir, and I'll 
tell you just exactly how it was. Up in 

the Marrowbone Hills, when a crime is 
committed they rise up and kill three or 
four people, and then take the trouble 
to inquire into the matter. That's the 
way they do business up in that infernal 
country. Well, sir, you understand, up 
there somebody had murdered an old 
woman in the night. Bad piece of work, 
sir; no doubt about that. Calculated to 
exasperate them, which it did. Well, 
sir, they rose up and seem to have found 
the right man pretty quick. Of course 
they made short work of him, but that 
only whetted their appetites. When a 
tiger gets a taste of blood he's a bad 
tiger for some time afterward, and when 
a mob gets started up in that hill country 
they're hell to stop. My man is a for- 
eigner, and don't catch onto things, you 
see, like our folks. When he found the 
whole country on a rampage he got a 
big scare on him and tried to hide. 
Then it was they got the dogs and set 
out to catch him and kill him. So they 
would have done, but luckily he saw the 
sheriff of the county passing and fled to 
that officer for protection. That's the 
tale, sir, and a devil of a tale it is, as 
I think you'll agree with me. The 
sheriff brought the poor fellow down 
here for safe-keeping, and that very 

THE K. K. K. 


night the mob surrounded the jail at 
Ashton, howling for his blood. Oh, 
them fellows were fatally bent on mis- 
chief, I tell you." 

"Your client seems to have had a 
pretty close shave of it." 

"Didn't he, though? He got off by 
the skin of his teeth, as the saying goes. 
It's an outrage, sir, the way he was 
treated an infamous outrage, and some- 
body ought to be made to smoke for it. 
Why, sir, my client's folks are among 
the very best people up round Chicago. 
The Ankerstroms, I tell you, are highly 
respected there. Thrifty, thrifty, thrifty. 
You haven't met the old man, have 

"Never saw him." 

"Fine old citizen, fine old citizen. 
Distressed to death over the trouble his 
son has gotten into. Afraid it will in- 
jure the standing of the family. I tell 
him by the time we get through, the shoe 
will be on the other foot. Certain gen- 
tlemen in the Marrowbone Hills will be 
shown up in their true colors, and the 
advertising they'll get by this affair 
won't help them much, I can tell you. 
Palaver & Slowboy have been employed 
for the prisoner, and when Palaver & 
Slowboy take hold of a case it doesn't 
generally suffer for lack of attention ; I 
think I can say that much for the firm, 

"Yes, indeed," replied the friend, 
wiping his lips after he had absorbed 
the contents of his glass. "You might 
say a good deal more than that for the 
firm, Colonel, and not stretch the truth." 

"Possibly so, possibly so," returned 
Palaver, waving his hand in a deprecat- 
ing way. "As to how that is, of course 
it's not proper for me to say. The 
world knows Palaver, and the world 
knows another thing damned well, and 
that is that Palaver never blows his own 
horn. One remark, which I make bold 
to say, sir, will not be gainsaid by any 
person familiar with the facts. What- 
ever may be thought or said of the 

senior member of the firm of Palaver & 
Slowboy, upon the junior member, sir, 
there is no discount. Slowboy, sir, can 
be relied on under any and all circum- 
stances to do his best." 
"That's saying a good deal for him." 
"It's a high compliment upon him, 
sir, and it's a deserved compliment. 
Wake Slowboy up at the dead hour of 
the night, if you will, with a demand 
for his services, and, damme, if he 
don't rise up and do his best. He's a 
deserving young fellow, Slowboy is. 
Faithful, faithful, faithful. Not bril- 
liant, I grant that. Not showy, not a 
man of parts, as ah perhaps some 
other persons are; but, damme, if he 
isn't reliable. It's the plodding fellows 
that make the world go. Genius is the 
poor moth that flits about the candle, 
you know. Well, you can look at Slow- 
boy and tell he's no genius. He was 
dull at school, and he's dull yet, but he 
gets there all the same. Palaver & Slow- 
boy, as I was saying, have this case in 
hand, and the finding of the jury will be 
'Not guilty,' as soon as it comes the 
jury's time to speak. Maybe that will 
be the end of it; maybe no, for I tell 
you in confidence I expect to get heavy 
damages out of the lively gentlemen 
back yonder in the hills, who run human 
beings round in the broom sedge with 
dogs and shoot at 'em for pastime. The 
first thing, though, of course, is to clear 
my man, and that, I tell you, will be as 
easy as winking. They've kicked up a 
mighty hullabaloo over this matter, but 
their case when they get into court won't 
stand up long enough to be knocked 
down, mark my prediction." 

In this overwhelmingly confident way 
did Lawyer Palaver express himself as 
to the final outcome in the case of the 
State of Tennessee versus Johan Anker- 
strom, who now languished in jail, await- 
ing his vindication at the hands of a 
jury. As yet the prosecution had ad- 
vanced no farther than the writ sworn 
out by Templeton shortly after the death 

9 8 


of the Widow Bascombe. He had been 
shrewd enough to waive an examination 
before a justice of the peace in the 
county where his crime was committed, 
and would now be held until the next 
term of the circuit court at Ashton, when 
a grand jury of thirteen good and law- 
ful men would determine whether or no 
to present a true bill against him. As 
the assembling of the court was three 
months off, and the state as yet had 
made no effort to muster its witnesses 
against the accused, it seemed a little 
premature for his attorney to predict 
that whenever he faced the issue a 
triumphant acquittal was a foregone con- 
clusion. But Palaver was one of those 
sanguine individuals who always be- 
lieved, and robustly maintained, that 
everything at all affecting his own 
future was going to turn out just pre- 
cisely as he would like to have it turn 
out. He was invariably on the right 
side of a lawsuit, had facts and logic 
at his command in such formidable array 
that they could not be withstood, and 
was dead sure to win until he lost. 
Then he gave himself up for a brief 
season to righteous indignation; damned 
court, jury, and everybody who was even 
remotely responsible for bringing disas- 
ter upon him, and, after thus venting his 
spleen, flung himself with unabated ardor 
into the next case. 

But if Lawyer Palaver was prone at 
all times and under all circumstances to 
take a roseate view of the future, Lawyer 
Slowboy was by nature rather inclined to 
go to the opposite extreme. This was 
singular, seeing that Palaver was bald- 
headed and spectacled, while Slowboy 
was in what is usually termed the first 
flush of youth, not having yet reached 
his twenty-third year. Nevertheless, 
Slowboy was cautious, disposed to mag- 
nify the obstacles he always saw in front 
of him, and inclined to place altogether 
too modest an estimate upon his own 
abilities. During the progress of a law- 
suit he was nervously apprehensive as to 

the result, until the conclusion brought 
either success or defeat to his cause. If 
victory perched upon his banner, he 
sung the praises of Palaver, declaring 
that the result was attributable alone to 
the unexampled genius of that gentle- 
man. If the firm encountered defeat, 
Slowboy took all the blame on himself, 
and maintained among his associates that 
if he had only done thus and so, instead 
of this way and that, the final outcome 
in all probability would have been differ- 

Slowboy, as the reader needs not to be 
told, was an enthusiastic admirer of his 
chieftain, Palaver. When but a small 
lad he had sat on the hard benches in 
the rear of the court-room and listened 
open-mouthed as eloquence flowed in 
unbroken current from the lips of the 
gifted gentleman. He imagined Slow- 
boy did that if he could be brought in 
close communion with so talented a per- 
son, his fortune would be made. His 
mother, fortunately, was kin to somebody 
who was kin to Palaver, and by this 
roundabout means the desirable arrange- 
ment was at last effected. Slowboy went 
into Palaver's office as a sort of clerk 
and general underling, having the fact 
impressed upon him that if he was faith- 
ful and diligent he might, after a while, 
hope to rise. If ever a youth on this 
earth was faithful and diligent, Slowboy 
was faithful and diligent in the office of 
Lawyer Palaver. It could not be truth- 
fully said of him that he cleaned the 
windows and swept the floor, and pol- 
ished up the handle of the big front 
door, because, as a matter of fact, this 
particular service was not rendered by 
anyone; but certain it is that everything 
else in the way of drudgery that was 
done at all was done by Slowboy. 
Finally, as the planet upon which he 
abode revolved around the sun, the legs 
of the patient underling lengthened and 
he passed from the gosling stage into 
one where his voice more nearly re- 
sembled that of a human being. Then 

THE K. K. K. 


the girls began to call him Mr. Slowboy, 
and he felt proud. A respectable mid- 
dle-aged lady in the community also felt 
proud, for he was the only son of his 
mother, and she a widow. By this time 
he had come to write a neat, clerkly 
hand, being very painstaking in what- 
ever he undertook. He had also, by 
much cudgeling of his brains, gotten 
himself well-grounded in the elementary 
principles of the law. If he didn't 
understand a proposition laid down in 
a text-book, he went back and tackled 
it again, and wrestled with it till he did 
understand it, and when he once got it 
into his head it was there to stay. As 
for oratory, he used to bemoan in secret 
to his mother the fact that the English 
language wasn't at his command when 
he needed it, and that his exasperating 
mind wouldn't work when he wanted it 
to work. The older lawyers patronized 
him, as older lawyers can always be 
relied on to do, and fed him with the 
hope that if he would only keep ever- 
lastingly at it, he might, in time, climb 
to the dizzy height on which they stood. 
Thus encouraged, Slowboy kept plod- 
ding along. After some years of faithful 
service the auspicious morning dawned 
on which the firm of Palaver & Slowboy 
solicited their share of public patronage, 
and then his cup of happiness was full. 
The articles of co-partnership were not 
perhaps as definite as they might have 
been, but they amounted in substance 
to an agreement that Slowboy should do 
all the work and Palaver should take all 
the money, and this understanding sub- 
ject to such variation as occasional exig- 
ency demanded had now existed ami- 
cably between them for some time. 

Some weeks before the conversation 
narrated in the opening of this chapter, it 
happened that Slowboy, sitting in his 
office and endeavoring to extract the 
kernel from a recent decision of the 
Tennessee supreme court, was inter- 
rupted by a modest tap upon his door. 
Bidding the person without to open and 

enter, he saw first a bare grey head ob- 
truded into the apartment, and next the 
diminutive person of an individual evi- 
dently considerably advanced in years, 
but still brisk and alert of movement. 

When the old gentleman had taken 
a seat, and hooked his heels firmly to 
the round of his chair, and propped his 
elbows comfortably upon his knees, he 
inspected the entire apartment critically, 
as if taking a mental inventory of all 
the articles of value which it contained. 
When he had completed his survey he 
turned to Slowboy and addressed him 
with suavity. 

"Kernell Perlaffer, vere is he?" 

"He's out," replied Slowboy, senten- 

"Ah!" said the little old gentleman. 
"You are den perhaps de young man?" 

"I'm his partner," answered Slowboy, 
with some pride manifested in his tone. 
"Palaver & Slowboy is the firm." 

"Ah!" said the little old gentleman, 
bowing again again respectfully to Slow- 
boy. "Dat is so? Dat is so? Perlaffer 
& Slowboy. Ah! Dat is so? Dis is 
Mister Slowboy, den?" 

Slowboy bowed. 

"Mister Slowboy," said the little old 
gentleman, rising and extending his 
hand, "I haff de pleasure." 

The lawyer accepted the extended 
hand and gave it a not very cordial 
shake. The old gentleman then resumed 
his seat and opened discussion upon the 
business that had brought him thither. 

"Mister Slowboy," he began and the 
lawyer could not help thinking there 
was veiled irony in the emphasis placed 
on the prefix to his name "I haf a case 
in de courts here, and vish to know vat 
yo sharge for taking mine case for me. 
Pizness is pizness.' ' 

"What is your case?" inquired the 

"I haff a son, a miserable, onhappy 
son, vat lies down here in de shall. 
S'help me, such a thing never did hap- 
pen to one of de fambly befo', but it 



haff happened now. My son lies in de 
shail, and I vould get him out of de 
shail, and I speaks to you as mine frient 
and mine lawyer. Vot you sharge to 
take de case, hey?" 

"Ankerstrom is your name," asserted 
Slowboy, who had learned that one of 
the few white persons in the county 
prison was a foreigner named Anker- 
strom, charged with murder. 

"Yes, yes, yes. I vill not deny my 
name. Tis a coot name. S'help me, 
de name never vas in throoble befo'. 
Vat you sharge me?" 

"Your son is accused of the murder 
of an old lady in the county above this?" 

"Ah, yes, yes. Mine poor poy. He 
is lacking here." And the old gentle- 
man tapped his forehead with his finger 
significantly two or three times. "He 
is lacking; the poor poy is lacking. De 
doctor vill tell you so. He is likevise 
innocent as de new-porn pabe. Vat you 
sharge me?" 

"Five hundred dollars," said Slow- 
boy, at a venture. 

"Mein Cot!" cried the old gentleman, 
rising and dancing about the room as 
if the lawyer's unexpected reply had 
literally knocked him silly. "Ah, mein 
Cotl No, no! I have not de money, 
young shentleman. You mistake me for 
a Fanterpilt, a Shay Cool, a Shon Shacob 
Astor, or peebles of dat kind. Five 
hundred dollars! Ter plessed Moses 1 
No, no, no, no! Mine son must hang! 
My poor innocent shild must hang! 
Five hundred dollars! I haff not got 
de money." The old gentleman here 
sat down again and bowed his head in 
his hands for a while; then he raised it 
and addressed the lawyer respectfully: . 

"Dere are otter lawyers in dis town?" 

"Plenty of 'em," answered Slowboy. 

"Coot lawyers, too, I make no doubt?" 

"First rate, first rate," answered Slow- 
boy, heartily. "None better in the 

"Maype dey vill not pe so hard upon 

"Maybe not," answered Slowboy. "I 
advise you to try one of 'em." 

The old gentleman here sunk his head 
in his hands again in deep despondency ; 
then he raised it and once more ad- 
dressed the hardened youth before him: 

"Kernell Perlaffer vot time vill he 
be in?" 

"Can't say," answered Slowboy. 
"Most any time." 

"Veil, I must go to de shail to see 
mine poy. By two-thretty t'en I pe pack. 
At dat time I see Kernell Perlaffer. 
Five hundred dollars! No, no! I haff 
not got de money." 

With these words the old gentleman 
withdrew, and Slowboy sent a runner 
around the town to notify the senior 
member of the firm that there was busi- 
ness awaiting at the office. When Pa- 
laver came in they discussed the ques- 
tion of the fee. 

"You put it too low," said the senior 
member of the firm. "A thousand dol- 
lars would have been about the figure. 
Murder case; two or three trips to 
supreme court and back; trial in an- 
other county; half-dozen continuances; 
change of venue; damme, if a thou- 
sand dollars is a bit too high!" 

"He swears he can't pay five hundred 

"He's a liar. He belongs, no doubt, 
to a gang of Chicago swindlers, who 
always help each other out in time of 
trouble. I've had some dealings with 
these scoundrels, and they pay well. 
Five hundred dollars will do, though, 
Slowboy. Five hundred dollars will 
help keep the pot boiling. Five hun- 
dred you've said, and five hundred it 
shall be. What time will the old scoun- 
drel be in?" 

"Half-past two." 

"All right; I'll be here," 

And at half-past two Colonel Palaver 
was on hand, and the little old gentle- 
man was on hand also, and negotiations 
between them were conducted to a satis- 
factory conclusion. The old gentleman 

THE K. K. K. 


protested that he did not have five hun- 
dred dollars, and could by no possi- 
bility raise five hundred dollars, but the 
colonel was obdurate, and the bargain 
was struck. Upon one point the old 
gentleman was as obstinate as the law- 
yer. He flatly refused to pay the entire 
fee in advance, though when the two 
men came down to business he did not 
deny that he had the money in his trou- 
sers pockets with which to liquidate the 
obligation. He finally paid down, as 
a retainer fee, twenty-five per cent, of 
the sum total, or one hundred and 
twenty-five dollars, in legal currency of 
the United States. The remaining three 
hundred and seventy-five dollars was 
then deposited in bank under a written 
agreement between the parties that no 
part of it should be drawn out until the 
conclusion of the case, and then only 
upon a check to be signed by both law- 
yer and client. To this agreement, de- 
posited with the banker, the little old 
gentleman signed his name, "Olof 
Ankerstrom," in a respectable hand- 
writing that compared well with the 
scrawl of the attorney above it. 

Just here it may not be amiss to put 
in a word or two concerning the Anker- 
strom family of Chicago and elsewhere. 
It was an enterprising family in its way, 
consisting of the little old gentleman and 
some half-dozen sons and daughters, who 
had been accustomed from infancy to 
dodge and hide and look out for them- 
selves about as young foxes do. Johan 
was regarded as the least promising of 
the flock. He was not so keen-witted as 
the others, and was far more brutal by 
nature than any of the others. The old 
gentleman really expressed the family 
opinion when he tapped his forehead 
and said to Slowboy that Johan was 
lacking. He was lacking just as many 
another human brute is lacking who has 
nothing like a conscience to restrain him 
from the gratification of his basest ani- 
mal impulses. Whatever his vile nature 
prompted him to do, he did, unless fear 

of immediate apprehension and punish- 
ment deterred him. The other members 
of his family despised him; they held 
their heads considerably above him; they 
would have been glad at any moment to 
hear of his death, but they always came 
to his rescue when he got in trouble. 

That they did not carry out their oft- 
repeated threats to wash their hands 
of him for good and all, can only be 
explained upon the principle that family 
ties throughout the entire animal king- 
dom are mysteriously strong. 

So it was when Johan Ankerstrom 
found himself behind the bars of the 
Coopertown jail, with a charge laid 
against him that might rid him of his 
worthless life, he sent forth such a squeal 
that it reached the ears of his kinsmen 
beyond the Ohio river, as he intended it 
should. And so it was when the family 
heard that Johan was once more in 
trouble, they called a council and cursed 
him, and damned him, and wished him 
well out of the world, and not only out 
of the world, but in a very hot place 
which is supposed to exist somewhere 
beyond the confines of this earth. 
These preliminaries through, they got 
down to business, raised a substantial 
purse and dispatched the old man south 
to see what could be done in behalf of 
Johan. Journeying southward, the old 
man reached Coopertown, as we know, 
and employed able counsel to represent 
his son in the courts. He also hung 
around the jail here for some time, win- 
ning the sympathy of many by his pious 
aspect and dejected countenance. When 
the time came for him to take his depar- 
ture, he shook hands cordially with all 
the jailer's family and presented his un- 
fortunate offspring with a copy of the 
Old Testament Scriptures, in one of 
the heavy covers of which he had 
deftly inserted a very slender steel 
saw of excellent temper. This paren- 
tal duty having been discharged, he 
bestowed his blessing upon the house- 
hold and went his way for a season. 

(To be continued) 



By John F. Lacey 


IT is a remarkable fact that inventions 
are often made, drop out of sight, and 
after abandonment are again revived and 
become of practical and general use. 
The bicycle was invented, and after be- 
coming noted as a toy it disappeared. 
Many years later it was improved, re- 
modeled and its use became a fad. Now 
it is a common means of locomotion and 
a permanent and unnoticed part of our 
daily life. 

Morse's first electric telegraph, was 
wireless, and his experiments in sending 
messages across the Potomac were suc- 
cessfully made, but he improved his in- 
vention by the use of wires and the tele- 
gfaph line from Washington to Baltimore 
was constructed in its present form. The 
wireless system has been revived, and 
its possibilities stagger the imagination. 

The phonograph at first astonished the 
world as a remarkable, though useless, 
talking machine and then passed into 
disuse. Like the bicycle, its subse- 
quent improvement made it a permanent 
and pleasing addition to our means 
of enjoyment and of practical use as 

The world has, from the beginning of 
time, longed for a flying machine, and 

the busy brain of the inventor has always 
throbbed with designs for the develop- 
ment of this means of locomotion. The 
flying machine has been invented, so far 
as mere speed is concerned, in the form 
of the railway, and trains now equal the 
speed of the fastest bird. In 1829, when 
the steam railway was first projected, the 
idea of steam as the coming method of 
travel caught strong hold upon the public 
mind. The steam road car was invented 
as the original automobile, and the ques- 
tion was discussed as to whether the rail- 
way or the steam road-engine was to be 
the coming motor. 

The railway was looked upon as 
chimerical, and the impossibility of a 
train going up hill was regarded as too 
obvious for the scheme to be practicable. 
In 1834 a railway line was projected 
from Havre to Paris. The steam road- 
engine was its rival, but the railway 
proved a success, and for more than sixty 
years the highway motor went into retire- 
ment. In 1834, J. M. W. Turner, the 
great artist, made a tour of the river 
Seine accompanied by Leitch Ritchie, a 
most delightful writer. An illustrated 
"Annual" was published by them, and 
Ritchie .!ays that "if the book lives a 



hundred years, and its beautiful engrav- 
ings may preserve it that long, his ac- 
count of the railway and road engine 
(automobile) will be read with a smile 
as well as interest." 

In these days of motor cars the ac- 
count of Leitch Ritchie, describing the 
engine of seventy-one years ago, is 
worthy of publication and should excite 
the interest of the people who either 
love or hate the horseless carriage of 
the present day. 

Mr. Richie says: 

"The French of today (1834) are expending 
their francs in the construction of a railroad 
from Paris to Havre. This we cannot help 
considering a very useless and foolish enter- 
prise, entered into, like some similar under- 
taking in England, without knowledge or 

Steam-carriages, which will eventually 
become general in all civilized countries, 
do not necessarily require a railroad. 
They require precisely such a road as they 
have at present in almost all the great 
thoroughfares of France a good, solid high- 
way, paved with hard stones. The public- 
spirited enterprise of Sir Charles Dance, 
and those of Colonel Macerone and Mr. 
Squire, have proved this fact to a demonstra- 
tion ; and we were ourselves a party in a 
little experimental expedition performed by 
the latter gentlemen, under circumstances 
which deserve to be communicated to the 
public of France and England. 

"Drawn one day out of a hut on Bushey 
Heath, by the appearance of an unusual 
commotion among the inhabitants of the vil- 
lage, we saw a steam-coach which had stop- 
ped at the door of the public house. The 
apparition of a vehicle of this kind in such a 
place was unaccountable. A balloon would 
not have surprised us^ but the idea of steam 
was associated in our minds only with that 
of rails, flat ground or the level ocean. 
Bushey Heath forms the plateau of a moun- 
tain which is the highest point of terra firma 
in Middlesex ; and, although so far inland, 
serves as a landmark for vessels at sea. The 
access to it from London side is by a road 
far steeper and more difficult than the one 
by which we once climbed over the Simplon 
in Italy. 

"While meditating on a phenomenon which 
left our philosophy at fault, we were accost- 
ed by Colonel Macerone, in whom we were 
glad to recognize an old acquaintance; and 

in reply to our questions, he informed us 
that, although the roads were in peculiarly 
bad state, the journey had been performed 
with perfect ease adding, that it was his 
intention to proceed to Waterford. Now, if 
the road from Edgeware was steep and 
difficult, the descent from Bushey Heath to 
Edgeware was much worse. 

A portion of it, more especially, called Clay 
Hill, we knew to be absolutely precipitous, 
and not only so, but of a soft and treacher- 
ous nature, answering to its name. When 
ascending the hill to the is requisite 
even for light stage-coaches drawn by four 
horses to employ the service of a fifth horse, 
in order to surmount the difficulty. We told 
our friend that he might, no doubt, go by 
steam to Waterford, but we were quite cer- 
tain he would not return by the same means 
of locomotion. Nevertheless, at his pressing 
instance, we consented to hazard our own 
person in the adventure. 

"We set off, amidst the cheers of the vil- 
lagers, at a pace about equal to that of a gal- 
lop of a stage-coach. The motion was so 
steady that we could have read or taken 
notes with the greatest ease; and the noise, 
so disagreeable to passers-by, was not at 
all so great to us as that of a common 

"On arriving at the somewhat sudden com- 
mencement of the descent of Clay Hill, the 
local experience of the attendant (who had 
never been on this road before ) led him to 
be guilty of neglect which might have been 
followed by troublesome consequences. 
He did not descend to perform the operation 
which, in another kind of coach, is called 
'clogging the wheel,' till it became impossi- 
ble. The impetus already acquired by a 
vehicle of such enormous weight was irresist- 
able; and we went thundering down the steep 
at a rate, it was supposed, of not less than 
thirty miles an hour. 

"Fortunately there was nothing in the way; 
but even if there had been other carriages in 
the road, we were not prepared to say that 
any accident would have occurred. Our im- 
pression, indeed, is quite on the other side. 
Mr. Squire, who acted as steersman, never 
lost his presence of mind for an instant; and 
the huge vehicle speed only excepted 
appeared to be docile in his hands as a lady's 
pony. It may be conceived what amazement 
an apparition of this kind, flashing through 
the village of Bushey, occasioned among the 
inhabitants. The people seemed petrified. 
The front of the carriage, without horses, or 
without apparent means of locomotion the 
line of black smoke streaming like a flag be- 
hind us and the calm faces of the colonel 



and his partner in front, as each continued 
to smoke his cigar, were unaccountable. 

"In the busy and populous town of Water- 
ford the sensation was similar. The men 
gazed in a grave and speechless wonder; the 
women, less reflective, but more generous, 
clapped their hands, and screamed for their 
brothers and husbands to come and see. 
We at length ' put about,' at the further end 
of the line of street, in magnificent style; and, 
as we commenced our return, were greeted 
with one long shout from the whole popula- 

"Our evil augury, we are happy to say, 
was not verified. We ascended Clay Hill at 
the same rate which is performed every day 
by the stage-coaches with five horses; and if 
the road had been hard, or even covered in 
the soft places with broken granite, our speed 
would have been far greater. There was in- 
deed a momentary stop; but this was caused 
by one of the wheels not being firmly enough 
fixed to the body of the vehicle. We at 
length regained our starting-place in the 
firm persuasion that we had witnessed the 
commencement of a revolution which will 
one day change the whole face of Europe, 
and produce results moral, social, and poli- 
tical so gigantic as to be beyond the grasp 
of even the imagination. 

"The expense of running these carriages, 
as Colonel Macerone informed us, compared 
with that of the four-horse stages, is as a 
penny to a shilling. The difference will be 
still greater in France, where fuel is cheaper 

in comparison than corn. In France, too, 
the roads are ready made; while most of 
ours in England would be impassable in 
their present state in a rainy Winter. As for 
rail-roads, they are excellent in a perfectly 
flat country ; but down-hill they will be dan. 
gerous in the extreme, and up-hill almost ab- 
solutely useless, except for carriages drawn 
by horses. To understand this, it is only 
necessary to consider for an instant that, 
when the horse is the moving power, he 
walks between the rails on the road adapted 
to his feet, and only demands that the wheels 
shall glide over the surface so smooth as 
to present no impediment to their pro- 

In the case of steam, themoving power re- 
sides in the body of the carriage, and it pro- 
pels only by turning the wheels ; which there- 
fore require, in ascending, a firm and uneven 
surface, in order to give them a hold, as it 
were, of the road. 

"If this is a digression, it cannot be consid- 
ered a very irrelevant one in the narrative of 
a traveller. If our book, however, shall last 
a century, (and, unless the plates are de- 
tached, we think it will) the above account 
of our 'expedition' will be read with a 

At that time, steam-coaches will traverse the 
civilized countries of Europe from end to 
end; steam-ships will circumnavigate the 
globe; and the descendants of Sir Charles 
Dance will come into town from his seat at 
Bushey in a steam-gig." 

THE ROSE .* By Alex Derby 


A GLEAM of white, two tripping feet, 
** A smile, a witching air, 
And a blush-red rose in the dusty street 
A waif from her wind-tossed hair. 

The dust my breath has blown away, 

My lips its petals part, 
And the rose from her loosened locks astray 

Is throned above my heart. 

Ah, recreant rose, ah, luckless rose, 
Breeze-riven from nook so dear, 

I would you were still in that soft repose 
And still on my bosom here I 

By Eva Ryman-Gaillard 


THERE is, practically, no limit to the 
number of desirable varieties to be found 
in the fern family, and there is, absolutely, 
no limit to the pleasure to be derived from 
experimenting with them, as the more one 
studies them the more interest they 

Among commercial stock the Boston fern 
has become so well known that comment is 
not needed, but with that, as with other 
plants, constant experimenting is producing 
new forms until now we have several distinct 
ones, ranging from the "Ostrich Plume" with 
its crinkly, plume-like fronds measuring 
three or four feet in length, or the "Stag 
Horn" with its wide fronds flattened and cut 
into so many prongs that one glance at it 
suggests its name, to the "Pigmy" with its 
long and graceful fronds, not more than an 
inch in width. 

Among newer ferns the "Holly" is desir- 
able because the leaves are thick and smooth, 
and shaped more like holly than like an 
ordinary fern, a fact which makes it capable 
of enduring more dust and dryness, as well 
as making it much easier to wash and keep 
clean. Before the leaves get too large for 
use it makes an ideal plant for table decora- 
tion but as it grows larger it becomes rather 
coarse, though never ungraceful. 

The "Climbing Fern" is another of the un- 
common sorts which I have found very satis- 
factory in every way. It is a light, graceful 
fern that will climb a thread as readily as 
smilax, or may be trained in any form by 
a little care. This year I have let it grow 
wild trailing over the pot in long, swaying 
branches, and it is even more beautiful than 
when trained to grow upward. 

The plant seems slow of growth at first 
but when it gets started it makes a steady 
growth, and is in every way well adapted to 
ordinary window culture in any room of 
moderate temperature. All these commercial 
varieties are desirable, yet anyone who can 
make a trip to the woods, in almost any 
locality in the United States, can find 
native varieties that will make, under 
cultivation, specimens very little if any 
less beautiful. 

As each locality has its special kinds it is 
not necessary to name varieties, but those 
may be found of small habit of growth which 
never grow too large for table decoration; 
large specimens that will make a tropical 
showing grown singly for use in parlor, hall 
or veranda; medium-sized ones there are 
which make effective showing when grown 
in masses in a corner; in banks on a shelf; in 
hanging-baskets, or wound into balls in fact 
there are ferns suited to every nook and cor- 
ner of the house, or grounds. 

While ferns are beautiful at any time they 
are doubly so in Summer, for the reason that 
they, more than any other plant, suggest 



coolness, and if we are to enjoy them during 
the coming Summer we should get to the 
woods as early as possible and dig them up 
as soon as the coiled fronds peeping through 
the soil shows us where to find them. 

Take them up with plenty of soil adher- 
ing to the roots; take a supply of soil in 
which to grow them, and take pieces of moss 
and roots of low-growing things with which 
to cover the soil after the ferns are potted 
and in a very short time the results will be 
ample reward for any trouble taken. 

Conditions surrounding them should be as 
nearly as you can make them like those from 
which they were taken, and in securing these 
the question of moisture for the foliage is 
one of the hardest to meet. 

Whenever there is a supply of hot water 
not needed for other purposes I set it among 
the ferns and let them get the benefit of the 
steam. At other times I set them out when 
there is a gentle rain, without wind. Some- 
times they are set out where they can get the 
benefits of a heavy dew, during the evening, 
but my stand-by is a large perfumery 

By using the atomizer the fine spray can 
be made to reach the under side of the foli- 
age, as well as the upper, and the work can 
be done without muss of any kind. 

Partial shade, moisture for the soil with- 
out making it too wet, and moisture in abun- 
dance for the foliage, plenty of air and free- 
dom from insects are conditions requisite to 
insure success in growing ferns of any variety, 
after they are once established in their new 


By Katherine E. Megee 


THE sweetbread or, more properly, the 
pancreas of the calf, being a part of the 
digestive viscera, is ^one of the most easily 
digested of animal foods, and is, for this 
reason, especially adapted to persons in deli- 
cate health. Its flavor, which is exceedingly 
dainty, commends it to the palate of both the 
sick and the well. The thyroid and subling- 
ual glands are also called sweetbreads, but 
are not only smaller than the true sweet- 
breads but greatly inferior in flavor. The 

pancreas is triangular in shape and, when 
taken from a healthy animal, is fresh pink- 
ish yellow in color. The throat sweetbread 
is oval and grayish yellow. The term, a pair 
of sweetbreads, usually means the heart and 
throat sweetbreads. The singular number 
of the noun is seldom used, even though but 
one sweetbread is in question. Lamb sweet- 
breads also make a very dainty dish. 

Sweetbreads spoil quickly and should 
never be allowed to stand, but dropped at 
once into very cold water to blanch and 
harden. Let stand an hour, changing the 
water as often as it becomes discolored; then 
remove the pipes and membrane, cover with 
boiling water, to which has been added a 
pinch of salt and a little lemon juice, and 
simmer for half an hour. Drain, chill in 
cold water, drain again and dry in a clean 
towel. They are then ready to be finished 
by any recipe preferred. 

and drying the parboiled sweetbreads, lay 
between two flat pans or boards and place a 
weight on top. When pressed flat, dip each 
in melted butter, place in a broiler and place 
over a bed of live coals. Transfer to a hot 
platter, dress with bits of butter, dust with 
salt and white pepper, garnish with parsley 
and sliced lemon and serve at once. 

SWEETBREAD CHOPS: Prepare the sweet- 
breads according to general directions, then 
chop fine, and for each two cups of the meat 
add one-fourth cup of grated bread crumbs. 
Mix well, season with salt and white pepper 
and bind together with a hot white sauce 
made by blending with one cup sweet milk 
two tablespoons each of butter and flour, 
with salt, pepper and lemon juice to season 
nicely. Stand the mixture aside until cold, 
then form into chops. Dip each chop into 
beaten egg and dredge with bread crumbs. 
Arrange in a frying basket and fry a golden 
brown in deep hot fat. Drain a moment on 
clean brown paper. Then stick a piece of 
macaroni in the small end of each chop to 
simulate the bone. Serve on a napkin with 
a garnish of lemon crescents. 

sweetbreads as for broiling. Cut narrow 
strips of salt pork as long as the sweetbreads 
are wide. Thread a larding needle with 
these strips and run several of them at regu- 
lar intervals through the sweetbreads near 
the top surface. Place in a shallow pan and 
stand in a hot oven thirty minutes, basting 
several times with rich stock. When cooked, 
transfer to a hot platter and surround with a 



border of stewed peas from which all liquor 
has been drained. 

pared sweetbreads fine, then stir into a thick 
white sauce seasoned with salt, pepper and 
mushroom catsup. Butter a vamequin and 
line the bottom and sides with grated bread 
crumbs. Pour the sweetbread mixture into 
this, cover with bread crumbs, dot with bits 
of butter and brown in a hot oven. Serve 
without re-dishing. 

sweetbreads fine; dust with salt and pepper 
and add four tablespoons of minced mush- 
rooms or oysters, if the latter are seasonable; 
bind together with thick white sauce. When 
cold, form into croquettes of any desired 
shape ; dip into beaten egg, then in crumbs 
and fry in deep hot fat. Serve with tomato 

parboiled sweetbread into dice. Put one- 
half cup rich milk over the fire in a granite 
frying-pan. When it boils, add two table- 
spoons butter, four eggs slightly beaten and 
the diced sweetbread. Cook, stirring con- 
stantly, until of the consistency of thick cus- 
tard and the white of the eggs is scattered 
in flakes through the mixture. Take from 
the fire, season with salt and white pepper, 
and serve on rounds of toast, heaping up 
like little mounds. 

for sweetbreads au gratin, then fill buttered 
cocottes with the mixture, cover with crumbs, 
dot with butter and brown in the oven. 
Serve in the cocottes. Just before sending 
to the table, place a poached egg on top of 

sweetbreads into thin slices. Prepare a 
sauce of one teacup rich stock, two table- 
spoons butter, one of flour and seasoning to 
taste. Simmer the slices of sweetbreads in 
this gravy forty-five minutes. Then stir in 
one beaten egg, two tablespoons chopped 
parsley and two of cream. Simmer a few 
minutes longer, then dish and serve at once. 

sweetbreads as directed, then with a silver 
knife tear into bits. Blanch and dry one 
dozen almonds and the same number of 
English walnuts. Chop the nuts fine and 
mix with the sweetbreads. Arrange for in- 
dividual service in lettuce cups. Garnish 
with walnut meat and sprigs of cress. 


TOT each little help found uited for use in this 
department, we award one year'* subscription to the 
National Magazine. If you are already a subscriber, 
VANTAGE OF THIS OFFER. You can then either 
extend your own term or send the National to a 
friend. If your little help does not appear, it 
is probably because the same idea has been 
offered by someone else before you. Try again. 
We do not want cooking recipes, unless you have 
one for a new or uncommon dish. Enclose a 
stamped and self -addressed envelope it you wish 
us to return or acknowledge unavailable offerings. 

By B. H. M. 

Carrollton, Ohio 

Put a thin layer of salt on a table, or boards, and to 
very 500 pounds of pork use the following prepara- 
tion: ten pounds salt, five pounds brown sugar, one- 
half pound ground ginger, one-half pound black pepper 
and two ounces saltpetre. Mix well and as soon as 
the meat is cut up lay on the boards or table (we use a 
table made expressly for that purpose) rub well over 
the flesh side and well in the ends. If the pieces are 
not large that one going over will be enough but if 
large, in a week or ten days (according to the weather) 
some bare places will show: you then simply put 
salt on, unless you did not use all your preparation; if 
you did not, then use that. The sides treated this way 
and then smoked will equal, if not surpass, your fancy 
breakfast bacon. Be sure and let the brine drip off. 
When it is smoked or ready to put away, get powdered 
borax and rub all over the meat; some rub the skin 
side but I never found that necessary. Hang up any 
place you wish and Mr. Fly will give it a wide berth. 
We have used this preparation for twenty years, and 
all our neighbors, and I have never heard of a pound 
being lost. Some use molasses instead of sugar and 
use a brush and put the mixture all over the meat, but 
the sugar is just as good and is nicer to handle. 

By MRS. E. M. C. 
Denver, Colorado 

Everyone can have beautiful hair. "Regardless o{ 
color ? " someone may ask. 

Yes, regardless of everything except care and cleanli- 

Instead of washing the hair (which takes off the 
natural oil and causes it to "fly just everywhere" for 
several days, until the oil exudes and is brushed over 
the hair) spread a clean, white cloth, that will not 
lint, over the slightly parted fingers of the left hand 
and with the right one rub your brush thoroughly but 
gently on the cloth. Brush the hair a few minutes and 
again clean the brush by rubbing on the cloth. Hair 
treated in this way ten minutes every evening for two 
or three weeks will be clean, soft and silky. 

Should the scalp be dirty, part the hair in several 
places and brush well each side of the part. This will 
not only cleanse the scalp but cause the blood to cir- 
culate freely, thus stimulating the growth of the hair 
and prevent its falling off. 

Perseverance is the price of satisfactory results. 




Mentor, Ohio 

To remove a cork that has gone through the neck 
into the body of the bottle, make a loop of twine, in- 
sert loop into bottle; turn the bottle until loop has 
encircled the cork; invert the bottle and draw out the 
cork. This manoeuver may have to be repeated sev- 
eral times, but one will soon learn to remove the cork 


By MRS. L. T. A. 
Oldham, South Dakota 

Before frying liver, try dipping the slices in hot 
water, the flavor is more delicate and much improved. 


By MRS. N. 
Los Angeles, California 

Get a five or ten-cent package of Indian soap bark 
(also known as Spanish bark) at the druggist's. For 
a light-weight skirt only slightly soiled a five-cent 
package is sufficient. Pour on one to two quarts of 
boiling water and allow to steep for a few minutes. 
Strain the liquor off into your tub of water (which 
should not be hot,only slightly tepid), put the garment 
to soak a few minutes, clean by squeezing with the 
hands until thoroughly dean, rinse in two tepid waters. 
Press dry with a hot iron, using a cheesecloth or thin 
muslin to prevent goods from becoming iron-creased 
or scorched. If material is very thick, partially dry 
hi the air, then roll up in a damp towel until ready to 

By following these directions carefully, you will have 
a garment "as good as new," with its original freshness 
of color unimpaired. 


Jamestown, Pennsylvania 

To separate beeswax from the comb, tie it up in a 
cloth with a stone in it to keep it at the bottom of a 
kettle of cold water. Place it over the fire. The wax 
will rise to the top as it melts and the impurities 
will remain in the bag. 

By C. M. TAFT 

Waterloo, Iowa 

To prevent tin water pails from rusting. Solder 
piece of sheet zinc two inches square in bottom of pail. 
The galvanic action of the zinc with the tin prevents 
the rust. 


Elmira, New York 

* After a pie is baked and removed from the oven, if it 
is set on a wire tea-tray or anything that will allow the 
air to circulate under the tin, the under crust will be 
light and flaky and not heavy and soggy as it would be 
if set on the table to cool. 


By T. O. C. 

New Lexington, Ohio 

When frying eggs cover the skillet or they will be 
tough; this also saves turning, as when covered they 
cook white all over the top and look nicer than when 


By MRS. C. T. 
Fairfield, Maine 

To prevent scorching in the oven, place a little salt 
in the oven beneath the baking-tin. 


Binghampton, New York 

1. The worst ink stains may be removed by soaking 
in cold milk and changing the milk as fast as it be- 
comes colored with ink. 

2. Esta Griffin says, "Put a tack in the end of your 
broom-handle and tie a string to it." A better way is 
to bore a hole through the handle large enough to slip 
over a nail. 

3. A sure cure for erysipelas is to bathe with tinc- 
ture of lobelia. 

4. To clean bottles, take some warm suds and put 
in a few shot or tacks, shake well and rinse. 

5. To clean paint brushes, soak in spirits of turpen- 
tine; if you do not have turpentine, take kerosene oil. 

6. To take out iron-rust in clothes do not use oxalic 
acid but cut a lemon in halves and rub on the spot; 
then rub with salt and lay in the sun and it will all 
come out. If it is bad, try several times. 

7. To take grease out of silk, rub with buckwheat 


By W. N. HULL 
Youngstown, Ohio 

Crayon sketches and pictures, black and colored, 
may be fixed so that they will not rub or soil by spray- 
ing them with a solution of white shellac gum in 
alcohol. Spray with a tin atomizer. 


Yorkshire, New York 

In rendering lard, cut the leaf and trimming of fat 
into small bits, put in a large dripping-pan, heaping it 
up, put pan in a hot oven; the stove does the rest with- 
out smoke or odor. 


By N. G. 
Orleans, Nebraska 

Some years ago I was told that tea-drinking caused 
rheumatism. One member of our household was 
badly affected with this disease, scarcely being able to 
get around. She quit drinking tea, and has not been 
troubled with rheumatism since. 




Abilene, Kansas 

A minister once told me a good way to keep awake 
in churh when inclined to be drowsy. The way was 
this,- lift one foot a little way from the floor and hold 
it there. It is impossible to go to sleep when your foot 
is poised in the air. This remedy though simple is 
very effectual and never falls to keep a person awake. 



Fall River, Wisconsin 

The flower garden border for rerennials is a great 
economy of time and strength, as it can rest undisturb- 
ed from year to year if well mulched. Aut not all am- 
ateur gardeners know how many of our wild flowers 
flourish luxuriantly there if properly treated. 

I would like to speak of a few which I have found 
wonderfully recptive to changed conditions. All the 
violets are very responsive to care. The Canadian 
white violet as well as the downy yellow one form 
beautiful clumps of foliage and blossoms, the wood 
violet spreads beyond all bounds, while the prairie 
violet develops larger blossoms and leaves and, for me, 
has blossomed again in the Fall, extending its season 
to late October. 

I have a '"swamp" comer, occupying the space be- 
tween two large lilac and honeysuckle bushes. The 
ground is drained by the roots of the soft maple trees 
and the wiseacres prophesied failure when I made the 
beginning. But, by a judicious use of leaves and wood- 
ashes it has become a pronounced success. Here, in 
their season, bloom blpodroot, hepaticas, anemones, 
spring beauties, wild ginger, dog-tooth violets, man- 
drakes and their brotherhood, among a host of thrifty 
ferns. The plants were taken from the swamps with 
plenty of their native soil, and their subsequent growth 
has been wonderful. 

To succeed with wild flowers one has only to repro- 
duce, so far as possible, their native conditions. The 
American pasque-flower, the prairie's first Spring blos- 
fom, must have pebbles or bits of rock to which to 
attach its roots. The purple avens, whose handsome 
foliage and crimson bells are among the finest of our 
Spring decorations, requires the same conditions. All 
the trilliums improve under cultivation, and with 
mulching are permanent. Shooting-stars and the wild 
blood-lilies of the Indians reward one for the time ex- 
pended in seeking them. By judicious selection the 
wild-flower border will be filled with color and perfume 
from the middle of March till the last of October when 
the gentians and asters make their adieus. 

Burbank tells us all to be plant-breeders. Without 
going to that length we can make valuable discoveries 
as well as find rich entertainment by giving our native 
plants a foothold among our exotics. 


Miami, Florida 

If a nurse having the care of a patient bed-ridden for 
a length of time, will bathe the tender skin with brandy 
each day, there will be no danger of bed-sores. But if 
these have developed, put the white of an egg in a cup ; 
and cover with brandy, apply as often as convenient 
the brandy stimulates, and the white of egg forms a 
thin skin. In very bad cases a pinch of alum added to 
the egg and brandy is desirable, as it draws out the 
inflammation, and, being astringent, helps to dry up 
the sore. 


By Mrs. A. B. COATS 

Akron, Ohio 

A photograph which has become soiled by dust, or 
smoke, can easily be cleaned. Hold it underneath 
the cold water faucet, and gently wash it with the 
hand or soft brush, as the water flows over it. 
Thoroughly rinse in clear cold water, and the picture 
will look almost or quite as good as new. 



Hancock, Wisconsin 

To keep nails from splitting furniture or delicate 
wood-work push them into a bar of soap before driving 
into the wood. 


New Iberia, Louisiana 

Get from the drug store twenty-five cent's worth of 
black liquid asphalt, thin enough for immediate use 
with turpentine, and after thoroughly washing and 
cleaning grates, apply with a paint brush. It gives a 
shiny, jet black polish, much superior in every way to 
the old methods, and saves both time and money. 


Winchenden, Massachusetts 

Never use Sapolio or any kind of scouring soap to 
clean an enameled bath-tub. It will soon take off the 
enamel if the use is continued long. Use kerosene on 
a cloth or ammonia. 

Harris, Colorado 

Wash the top of pies with sweet milk before baking 
to give them the rich golden brown that bakery pies 


Deland, Florida 

Before putting potatoes in the oven to bake, grease 
them. The result will more than pay for the little 
extra trouble. When the potatoes are done, the skins 
instead of being thick and hard as is usually the case 
will be thin and tender, and the quality of the potato 
greatly improved. 


By L. C. MACK 
Memphis, Tennessee 

When stewing prunes add about seven or eight 
whole cloves to a pound of the fruit. They give a new 
and delicious flavor that is liked by all. 





Marshall, Missouri 

To stop a strong colony of bees from robbing a 
weaker neighbor, give it something else to do by rais- 
ing the cover and throwing into it a generous handful 
of sawdust or chaff. The little workers will imme- 
diately get busy with "house-cleaning," meanwhile for- 
getting all about the coveted store of their neighbors. 

To strengthen and revive a weak, old colony, add to 
it a second or third swarm from one of your other col- 
onies. Such swarms are usually too small, anyway, to 
give satisfaction in a hive to themselves. To double 
them, first hive the small swarm in a super or cap. 
Take the lid off the old hive, which should then be 
covered by a sheet of common screen wire, and place 
the cap with the new swarm on top of this. The 
screen wire serves to keep the two hostile colonies 
apart until all the inner spaces are permeated with a 
common scent, otherwise a furious battle would ensue, 
lasting until one or the other colony was exterminated. 
The screen can be removed in twenty-four hours and 
you will have gained a flourishing colony of bees by 
the simple operation. Two or more new swarms may 
be put together in the same way. 


Chicago, Illinois 

Unless washed with great care, black stockings soon 
turn a greenish color. They should be washed with 
soap that is free from soda and rinsed in water to 
which a teaspoonful of vinegar has been added. When 
damp, press them into shape, but do not iron, as the 
heat tends to destroy the color. 


By M. M. D. 
Allston, Massachusetts 

Here is a suggestion for those who have canaries for 
pets. In a little jardiniere about two inches high, 
which may be found in any Japanese store, I planted 
some of the bird seeds; in a short time they had grown 
two or three inches of tender, green shoots. 

Now I put the jardiniere in the corner of my bird 
cage, and he has such a good time, eating off the ten- 
der tops! 

I let him enjoy it for an hour or so and then take it 
away and save it for another day, placing it in the sun 
to encourage the new growth of the little plants. 


By H. W. 

Minneapolis, Minnesota 

An easy way to learn whether your diamonds are 
loose or not, is to hold them close to the ear, with the 
stone downward, and gently tap them with your finger; 
if loose, you will be able to hear them rattle. 


By G. M. S. 

Waverly, Iowa 

The secret of successful fuchsia-growing is water, 
first, last and all the time. In pleasant weather they 
should be sprinkled at least once a day; twice a day is 
better, and three times will make a big difference in 
the number of blossoms. 

After the fuchsias get to blooming do not be afraid 
to cut the blossoms freely, whole sprays of them, as 
the plant will grow better and flower more freely for 
the pruning. 


New Haven, Connecticut 

Pick over the beans carefully. Put them in an 
earthen dish large enough to give them plenty of room 
to swell. Sprinkle on them a teaspoonful of cooking- 
soda and then pour enough boiling water over them to 
cover them when swollen. Let them stand over night. 
In the morning wash them thoroughly in cold water. 

Put them in the bean-pot, use sugar to taste about 
four teaspoonfuls to a pint of beans is my rule. Then 
lay the salt pork on top. I like a piece of dry red 
pepper for seasoning. I use a little salt as I do not 
care to use too much pork. Some object to using pork 
and in that case they can use a lump of nice butter. 

Then I fill the pot, not too full of water at first, as it 
is liable to run over, and then put them in the oven and 
bake from twelve to twenty-four hours, putting in 
fresh water as it cooks out 


Hillsboro Center, New Hampshire 

Buy nice fresh suet of your butcher. I like to buy 
quite a quantity at a time so as not to have to prepare it 
so often. Cut it into small pieces as you would leaf 
lard and soak over night in cold water. This takes 
away the tallowy taste. Turn into a colander and 
drain, then put in a kettle on the stove and let the fat 
try out slowly, stirring quite often to prevent burning, 
When all tried out, strain through a cloth, using scrap- 
squeezers in order to get all the fat from the scraps. 
Set away the suet to cool as you would lard. 

To have success in using suet one must know how 
to use it. My rule for making pie crust is as follows: 

For each pie allow one-quarter cup of sour milk or 
buttermilk sometimes in very cold weather it is best 
to allow one-third cup. Add soda in proportion of one 
teaspoonful to one pint of sour milk. Also put in salt. 
When the soda is dissolved stir in flour to make a 
rather thick batter, then stir in the same quantity of 
melted suet that you used of sour milk. The suet must 
be warm but not hot and be sure to thoroughly mix it 
in the batter as fast as you pour it in. If not it will 
cool in little lumps so you cannot roll the crusts, and 
you will think you do not like to use suet; but if it is 
mixed well as fast as poured in you will have no 
trouble. When thoroughly mixed add as much more 
flour as is needed to make it stiff enough to roll, 
and proceed as with any pie crust. After I roll out 
the top crust I turn on a little melted suet and spread 
it around with a knife, then sprinkle flour over and 
spat it down with my hand if you use the rolling-pin 
it is apt to get sticky and just before putting the pie 
in the oven pour cold water over it, which will make 
the crust flaky. 

Try using suet and see if you do not like it better 
than lard. I am a farmer's wife and we raise our own 
pork, so have perfectly pure lard, but I like the suet 
so much better that we sell our lard and buy suet, 
which I use in the place of lard for everything. It is 
much more healthful, as well as less expensive, and I 
think iust as convenient to use. 

Nofe and Comment 

by Frank Pufnaun 

CONFISCATION? What else do 
you call the process by which a 
little group of capitalists are grabbing all 
the mines, oil wells, railways, steamer 
lines, forests, factories? The men who 
use their kept editors and their parasite 
press to discredit the advocates of a de- 
center distribution should set a better 
example. If they don't want "their 
property" confiscated, they ought not 
to confiscate the property of other men. 
What they sow their sons will reap as 
sure as God made little apples. 

John Coulter of the New York Com- 
mercial's financial department, an expert 
and impartial reporter of the higher 
grade, tells, in another part of this num- 
ber of the National, how the Belmont- 
Ryan gang, by actually investing only 
twenty-five millions of their own money, 
and by using the credit of the city for 
the balance, has got control of all New 
York's street car lines (subway, surface 
and elevated) the whole property being 
capitalized at over half a billion dollars. 
At least a hundred millions of this paper 
capital is "watered," and most of the 
remainder represents the value of fran- 
chises boodled through rotten city coun- 

cils. It stands for the value of the privi- 
lege of using the public streets, the prop- 
erty of all the people. For this privilege 
the grabbers have never made and will 
never make any fair return to the real 
owners of the streets. 

The individuals (and the banks and 
insurance companies, too) that may buy 
the stocks and bonds issued by this gang 
of plunderers, will know in advance that 
they are going into a scheme to rob the 
city of New York and its people, and 
they will not, I trust, do any bellyaching 
about "confiscation" when the people 
squeeze out the water and take over the 
roads at their true value, not including 
franchise values a few years hence. 
That the people will do this no shrewd 
observer can doubt. The Belmonts and 
the Ryans know it and will be found 
safely out of the game, with their 
watered stocks turned into good money, 
when the end comes. It is time we 
called these parasitic stockholders 
in schemes for public robbery by their 
right names. They are just as thievish 
and just as truly "Enemies of the Re- 
public" as the big robbers who plan the 
schemes which could not be put through 



at all if the little parasites did not in- 
vest their money therein. 

Among these folks hundreds of 
thousands in number are many who 
howl the loudest about the wickedness 
of the big thieves, themselves all the 
while secretly and gladly profiting by 
the labors of the big thieves whom they 
denounce. We need a new standard of 
morality in investments: let no man 
who claims to be an homst man invest 
Ms money in any scheme for plundering 
the public whether in city, county, 
state or nation. There are plenty of 
honest undertakings of a constructive 
character to employ every dollar of idle 
American capital. If you allow your 
money to work at sneak-thievery and 
bribery and boodling, don't have the 
gall to come out in public and damn the 
sneak-thieves, the bribers and the bood- 
lers. Get your money into decent under- 
takings undertakings that will make 
new wealth, not merely sneak it away 
from the public. Back clean, ambitious 
young men in legitimate enterprises. 

And we ought to begin this policy 
right at the top; we ought not to spend 
another dollar of American taxes in the 
Philippines jamming down the necks 
of a lot of mongrels a civilization they 
hate and will discard at the first oppor- 
tunity. Every dollar of Uncle Sam's 
surplus ought to be reinvested in 
developing the resources of United 
States in irrigation, in replanting mur- 
dered forests, in digging canals. 

Roosevelt has proved he has at least 
a glimmering of this new era, by his 
work for national irrigation ; the rest of 
the steps he will learn in due season, 
because he is not a bourbon: he can 
learn. I expect to see him rise from his 
seat in the United States senate, within 
ten years, and demand that the federal 
government buy (at actual value no 

water) and operate, every mile of rail- 
way, telegraph and telephone in the 
United States and their territories. 

There is going to be a new era of 
splendor in the United States senate, by 
the way, an era comparable with the 
most brilliant in the history of that great 
body; an era when men profoundly in- 
flamed with great moral passions will 
give battle to the forces of organized 
money in defence of the general welfare. 
The occasion makes the man and the 
occasion is rapidly approaching. All 
that Theodore Roosevelt has done in 
the fighting line is preliminary train- 
ing for battles yet to come in the 
senate chamber or I am sadly mis- 

There are a thousand ways in which 
the nation could invest our tax-money 
that would better our reputation and 
make richer and brighter the lives of 
our children's children. And I really 
believe so strong is my faith in ulti- 
mate righteousness that, as a people, we 
are already recovering from the wild orgy 
of missionary arrogance, military blood- 
thirstiness and money-greed that led us 
whooping and howling patriotically into 
the brash and unbusinesslike Philippine 

If the United States senate will 
promptly turn down the president's 
effort to butt into European politics in 
the Moroccan matter and will sharply 
remind him that it is our business to at- 
tend strictly to our own affairs, here at 
home, allowing other peoples to attend 
to theirs, much will be forgiven to that 
deeply offending body of alleged states- 
men. The modern, money-trust idea 
that our battleships and our diplomats 
are to act as advance agents for their 
trade is an affront to the peoples 
at whom it is aimed, and an insult 
to the intelligence of the folks at 
home, who are expected to pay the bills 
and to stand for this form of legal 
piracy being carried on in their name, 




IN my list of personal acquaintances, 
I can think of no man who has done 
more in the cause of education than has 
Henry D. Perky. Of all the educational 
institutions of the United States which 
have appealed to me, Oread Institute 
of Domestic Science at Worcester stands 
at the head, for it is here that home 
makers are created in the true and di- 
rect sense of the term. Here girls learn 
to do by doing. Now the unparalleled 
success of this institution is not in its 
plethoric endowment, or in its wide- 
spreading campus or gigantic buildings, 
but is in the projects and aims of the 
school and most important of all, in the 

work of the graduates who have been 
sent forth with sound, wholesome ability 
to achieve and do. 

It requires only a glance over the list 
of past graduates to find the net result of 
this innovation in educational methods. 
The old castle on the hill at Worcester 
which, curiously enough, was one of the 
first institutions built for the higher edu- 
cation of women has been made a force 
in modern education by this practi- 
cal, go-ahead personality, a man who 
has given to the world the fruits 
of his genius in the way of indi- 
vidual commercial projects, as well as in 
the art of right living and the processes 


of preparing natural foods. It is 
generally known that Mr. Henry D. Per- 
ky is the inventor of Shredded Wheat, 
though he is not connected in a business 
way with the present manufacturers. 

The work at Oread is merely the be- 
ginning of a great movement. The re- 
quirements of the course at Oread Insti- 
tute of Domestic Science, at Worcester, 
are such that any graduate is made self- 
reliant, not only in the gaining of a liveli- 
hood, but in the building up of a home, 
and it is upon home-building that the 
future, as well as the present of the 
country must depend. 

* * * 

The question of home-building is 
not altogether dependent upon the train- 
ing of women, who are the mothers and 
housekeepers of America, but the boys 
and men must needs have their share of 
the same training. In view of this, Mr. 
Perky has secured 5,000 acres of the 
famous Filston Farm, near Baltimore, 
and has had estabished there apostoffice 
called Oread, and on May ist will open 
a boys' school with the same plan elab- 
orated as is apparent in the institution 
at Worcester. Filston Farm is located 
twenty miles from Baltimore, in the 
garden spot of Maryland, and around it 
clusters the colonial estate of John Car- 
roll of Carrolton. With sixteen barns 
already built, with blooded and imported 
cattle, hogs and sheep already on the 
ground, with scientific, practical farm- 
ing implements of all kinds, with lecture 
halls and recitation rooms all at hand, 
with a large manufacturing establish- 
ment at the Phoenix mill, equipped for 
turning the food products of Filston 
Farm into a form suited for the market 
or for home consumption, there never 
was such a perfected and practical prop- 
osition presented for a great educational 

I have been at Filston Farm several 
times, and have been greatly interested 
in the development of this plan from its 
inception. Under the genius of Mr. 

Perky it promises to be one of the most 
notable institutions of learning of a 
practical kind in the whole world. 

The course of study and the work in 
every department is complete. Already 
applications are being received from all 
parts of the country. Young men be- 
tween the ages of eighteen and twenty- 
five years, who desire a two-years' course 
of practical education in agriculture, 
commerce and right living, can obtain it 
here. One hundred young men stu- 
dents will be accommodated for the first 
year, and the school will open promptly 
on May ist, so you see there is little 
time to get in your application. The 
cost of the year's board, tuition and all 
expenses is $500, and it is so arranged 
that every young man can earn this 
amount by working on the farm, so that 
a practical opportunity is afforded for 
wholesome and profitable training. 



Here is the chance for a young man to 
earn his own education along practical 
lines, which will be of advantage to him 
as long as he lives. 

The students are to conduct the entire 
work and complete operation of this 
great Filston Farm, and are to adminis- 
ter and legislate as a real Democracy 
in this Agrarian Republic. Not only 
is the science of the soil and adaptation 
of crops, and details of up-to-date mod- 
ern farming to be studied, but the mar- 
keting of the products and the practical 
utilization of the crops to the best advan- 
tage, by means of pure food factories 
will also be in practical operation. It is 
certain that in a few years the Filston 
Farm pro- 
ducts will 
be noted 
the whole 
world over. 

The vaca- 
tions will 
occur at 
time and 
New Year 
during the 
winter, as it 
is during 

the summer months that the practical 
experiments are made in good hard 
work, under the real summer sun. 

On June 2;th the commencement ex- 
ercises at Oread Institute of Domestic 
Science, at Worcester, Mass., will be du- 
plicated at Oread in Baltimore County. 
The young men students will be arrayed 
in colonial uniform to greet the young 
ladies of Oread. They will be put 
through rigid military drill, partici- 
pating m commencement exercises 
which will be decidedly unique and 
inspiring. Addresses on this occa- 
ion will be made by Mr. Herbert Myrick, 
of Springfield, Mass., proprietor of the 
Orange Judd Farmer publications, At- 
torney Hedge of New York, Mr. H. D. 
Perky and others. 

The public will be invited to attend 
and witness a decided innovation, al- 
most a revolution in educational system. 

The occasion will certainly be one of 
picturesque interest, and many distin- 
guished visitors are expected to be 
present upon this "rare day in June." 

It is important that the candidates 
should be capable of intelligently com- 
prehending the earnestness, scope and 
purpose of this unique school, and what 
unusual advantages are afforded. It is a 
matter of individuality, and it is-difficult 
for the board to set a hard and fast age 
limit. The student must have his ap- 
plication passed upon by a board of ex- 
aminers, and it is important that he send 


in all the information obtainable about 
his individuality and circumstances. 

Situated within two hours' ride of the 
national capital at Washington, where 
the agricultural department of the gov- 
ernment is located, and where all the 
current information and research on the 
various subjects taught in the school are 
readily obtainable, it can be seen at a 
glance why this location is peculiarly 
suited to the purpose for which it was 
chosen. It was a matter of careful re- 
flection and investigation this location 
and all parts of the country were consid- 
ered before Oread and Filston Farm 
was finally decided upon. 

The curriculum of the school will at 
once appeal to the progressive and ener- 
getic young man of today. The tendency 


of the times toward development of 
agrarian interests of the country, and to- 
ward starting out young men with an all- 
around, practical, well-grounded know- 
ledge of how to care for themselves, and 
how to get the very best possible results 
out of the soil, is an important move in 
the right direction, and is something of 
immeasurable value, no matter what 
trade, profession or avocation the stu- 
dent may afterwards follow. The fun- 
damental basis of the wealth of the 
country is in the soil and in the agri- 
cultural product of the land today is the 
protection against panics, and the con- 
gestion of industrial interests. Whatev- 
er may come through chance or change, 
there never will be a time in which the 
land interests of the United States will 
not effectively control the nation, because 
they have -in their hands the bread and 
butter supply of the individual, the 
units that go to make up the complex 

The plans for this school include the 
construction and use of electric appli- 
ances, the utilization of electricity and 
also the utilization of waterpower, 
calling into play a knowledge of prac- 
tical engineering, in the manufacture of 
pure food products such as have never 
been known before food that shall be 

guaranteed wholesome, and will, there- 
fore, be sure of finding favor all over the 
world. These food stuffs will include 
every product known to the soil, and 
students will have the opportunity to 
acquire practical experience by first 
studying the soil, next its cultivation, 
utilizing dry irrigation methods, and ir- 
rigation itself. Then comes proportion 
of crops, and the raising, harvesting and 
marketing of everything produced on 
the land. 

Each young man will be in charge of 
five acres, and will have his own share 
of the responsibility so that the endow- 
ment of this great institution of practical 
learning comes to it direct from the soil 
itself and though the workers. 

Splendid horses are to be found on 
Filston Farm, and it is one of the finest 
stock farms in the country, many of the 
animals being imported. 

Mr. Perky is an inventive genius, and 
has probably few equals in this line in 
America. He has also conceived a plan 
for the construction of cheap and more 
durable farm buildings than any that 
have been made before. This is to be 
done by means of circular steel pipes, 
and the process is practical and fascinat- 
ing to the last degree. This is only tak- 
ing one step farther in the revolution al- 


ready accomplished by the construction 
of skyscrapers with steel beams. The 
circular pipes are to be placed side by 
side, plastered and filled in, thus fur- 
nishing a warmer and more stable house, 
while eliminating the great amount of 
detail that has heretofore been necessary 
in the construction of all buildings. All 
these exact calculations are now made in 
the factory where the pipes are manu- 
factured, where every beam and portion 
of the building is prepared for erection 
with a place for every screw. With cir- 
cular piping for sewerage and water, all 
building essentials are greatly simplified. 

The pipes for the buildings are laid 
upon a foundation of concrete, and make 
possible many plans which have hitherto 
been impracticable, owing to old and 
cumbersome processes of construction. 

But there is too much in Mr. Perky' s 
plans to give in one article. I can at 
best suggest the great purposes involved 
in this wonderful movement. But I 
hope there will be a strong representa- 
tion of National readers in the school 
for the initial year, and in urging this 
no fascinating, flowery bed of ease, or 
picturesque and poetic idea is presented. 
Practical hard work, and the opportunity 
to earn a way and develop the stuff that 
is in you is what is offered. Now, boys, 

sit right down 

and fill out your 
application blank, 
send it to Mr. 
Perky at Oread, 
Baltimore county, 
Maryland, and if 
necessary obtain 
further details, 
but do not delay 
even for twenty- 
four hours or you 
may be too late. 

I have just 
come back, filled 
with enthusiasm 
over the project, 
iuspired by the 

earnestness of the founder and the vital 
value of the idea, and I want the young 
men who go to this institution through 
the influence of the National to fully 
appreciate this suggestion. 

In those two years, under the bright 
skies of Maryland, the foundations of 
many careers will be laid. Useful citi- 
zens will come from this school, having 
here obtained a start in life, learning 
the art of helping others to help them- 
selves as well as how to avail themselves 
of every opportunity. 

The institution is simply saturated 
with the American spirit, which has 
come down to us with the sturdy spirit 
of the old Colonial days. 

On previous visits to Filston farm I 
have looked all over these old conti- 
guous estates, so exactly suited to 
the present purpose. I sat with Mr. 
Perky under the apple tree and dis- 
cussed in detail the plans which have 
crystallized in to a movement that 
will be far-reaching and effective in edu- 
cational evolution. Himself a farmer's 
boy, one who has known the real struggle 
of life and has conquered ill-health by 
hard work, one whose whole mind and 
ambition is centered in one great pro- 
ject, no man is better fitted than Mr. 
Perky to carry out such an undertaking. 




A few months ago I was at the Manor 
House on this farm, enjoying the quiet- 
ude of summer days, but now all is 
changed, and I found in every room of 
the old mansion the ringing activities of 
a clerical force, working with pen and 
typewriter, preparing for the great open- 
ing on May ist. The transformation 
seemed like magic. This movement is 
an important one for the city of Balti- 
more, and state of Maryland, and the 
people there are taking a keen interest 
in all Mr. Perky's plans. 

In his platform work he is vigorously 
promulgating the doctrines which he be- 
lieves in, and has recently lectured at 
Baltimore on the "Rebellion Against 
Educational Systems of the Present," 
a lecture which has occasioned wide- 
spread comment, and was most favora- 
bly received. 

On my return journey, I stopped off 
at Oread Institute at Worcester, and 
there had one of those simple, but 
wholesome and appetizing meals pre- 
pared by the students at Oread. I no- 
ticed that the young ladies in charge of 
the housekeeping department for that 
week figured up the exact cost of the 
breakfast we had just consumed in a 
concrete business-like way. 

The National Magazine is proud of 
the distinction of having been repre- 
sented at this seat of learning by two 
young ladies, who have graduated from 
Oread and have reflected great credit in 

their life work upon this distinctive insti- 
tution. We feel indebted to them for the 
splendid way in which they have utilized 
their talents and opportunities. 

Mr. Perky never does anything slowly, 
and you will have to take quick action 
if you want to enter one of his schools- 
otherwise you may have to wait for an- 
other year before gaining admittance, 
and it looks now as though the* waiting 
list might be a large one. Sit down and 
write at once to H. D. Perky, Oread, 
Baltimore Co., Maryland. 

Students will be glad to know that two 
scholarships are offered for each state. 
One hundred scholarships will be given 
and graduates are sure of attractive 
positions. The applicants must be 
healthy and vigorous and possess a good 
common school education. 


1 Field Crops. 

2 Drainage. 

3 Soils, Nature and Introspection of. 

4 Farm Buildings. Plan and Construc- 


5 Farm Management. Hiring and Di- 

rection of Labor. 

6 Location of Farms. Externals of 

Farm Home. Laying Out of Land- 
scape Gardens. 

7 Farm Accounting and Practical Book- 

keeping. Lectures Relating to All 
Subjects. Industry, Arts and Com- 




By Col. I. F. Peters, Industrial Commissioner 

THE most authentic account tells us 
that Hernando DeSoto and his war- 
riors first saw the great "Father of 
Waters" from the Fourth Chickasaw 
Bluffs, upon which today stands a city 
of the great South second only to New 
Orleans in commercial and industrial 

It was on a fair Spring morning in 
1541 that these adventurous spirits, seek- 
ing yellow gold, came upon the waters 
of the most restless river on the earth. 
Twenty-eight days they tarried here on 
the river banks, building pirogues to 

carry them a-down the stream, where 
their leader was to meet death, and re- 
ceive burial beneath its swift waters. 

In 1673 we hear of Father Marquette 
and M. Joliet at the little Indian village 
which stood on the spot where Memphis 
now stands. In 1682 the sieur de La- 
Salle touched on the Fourth Chickasaw 
Bluffs, and chose the location for a 
French fort; and 1686, in search of him, 
came the faithful Chevalier de Tonti. 

In 1793, Lemoyne Bienville, with a 
force of 3700 white men and Indians, 
built a fort here and spent the Winter. 


Later we hear of the site on which 
Memphis now stands as an Indian trad- 
ing post, one Isaac Rawlings being the 
first white settler. 

Geographically, Memphis occupies a 
position midway between St. Louis and 
New Orleans, at the head of all-the-year- 
round navigation on the Mississippi 
river, in the rich Mississippi valley. 
She is the "Heart of the Valley," some- 
one has said. 

And in more ways than one this may 
be true. Memphis people are proverbi- 
ally warm-hearted and polite. Mark 
Twain, in his "Life on the Mississippi," 
designates Memphis, -"The Good Sa- 
maritan City," because of the great 
mercy shown by her people in time of 

South of Memphis is that great body 
of land known as "The Yazoo Delta," 
the most fertile within the borders of the 
United States. (A word. here about this 
remarkable region may not be amiss.) 
Ellipsodal in shape, it reaches from 
within a few miles of Memphis on the 
North, where it has a width of ten 

miles, to Vicksburg on the South, a dis- 
tance of 180 miles; having its greatest 
width, seventy-five miles, at about the 
center. The Mississippi and the Yazoo 
rivers form its western and eastern boun- 
daries, and by the overflowing of these 
rivers from time immemorial down to 
the building of the great levee systems, 
the rich alluvium, equalled only by the 
soil of the Nile, has been formed. 

Four million, five hundred thousand 
acres comprise its area. It boasts no 
hills, the only elevations being the great 
Indian mounds, upon which some of the 
planters have built their homes. "A 
strange dwelling place for the living over 
the sepulchres of the dead," says an old 
writer. One of the largest of these 
mounds obtained the name of "Noah's 
Ark," because, during the past overflows 
cattle were wont to seek its elevation for 
protection. Ninety-one navigable water- 
ways penetrate this reigon, which is also 
well supplied with railway lines. 

West of the city lies the St. Francis 
Basin, embracing what was known as 
the sunk lands of Arkansas, reaching 



from Helena, Arkansas, on the south to 
Cape Girardeau, Missouri on the north. 
Area 6,090 square miles, 3,897,600 acres. 
It has been said that this basin, when 
developed, will support a city of 250,000 
people at Memphis. This soil is as rich 
as the delta. 

Almost every variety of fruit and vege- 
table will grow here. The timber crop 
of these deltas, whose magnificent hard- 
wood forests are becoming appreciated, 
is valued at $350,000,000. These deltas 
are worthy of being better known. The 
newspapers and magazines of the coun- 
try, so given to exploiting the wonders 
of Europe, are often sadly neglectful of 
many of the great features of their own 

The population of Memphis in 1840, 
which year is reckoned her real begin- 
ning, numbered 1,799 souls. From that 
date her progress has been steady and 
sure, despite civil war and other devas- 
tations, which it is reasonable to believe 
will never be repeated. Today she is 
counted the second largest city in the 
South, if Louisville be excepted, with 
a population, inclusive of suburbs, of 
175,436. Her rapid growth in manufac- 
tures within the last four years has 
greatly added to her population. 

There is a new Memphis, a city in 
itself, which has sprung up by the side 
of the old city; and Memphis is reach- 
ing out to build her commercial import- 
ance, as well as manufacturing indus- 
tries. No place in the South today 
holds a more prominent position in the 
public eye than Memphis, the HEART 
CITY of the Mississippi Valley. 

Memphis received its name from the 
ancient Egyptian city, which stood on 
the greatest alluvial stream of the old 
world, as its namesake stands on the 
greatest of the new. 

As you look down stream from a posi- 
tion on the margin of the beautiful bluffs, 
your eye glimpses the big steel bridge 
which connects Tennessee and Arkan- 
sas, a mile below the center of the city, 

the fourth largest bridge in the world. 

Thousands and thousands of flat-boats 
and floating palaces galore belong to the 
romantic period of the Mississippi river, 
which has to do with Memphis history. 
Cut-throats and gamblers infested the 
river in early days and near Memphis, 
where now peace and plenty smile, was 
one of their rendezvous. 

A distinguished guest to visit the 
place in the forties was Marquis de 
LaFayette, who traveled down the river 
in a flat-boat. In his party was Francis 
Wright, reformer, who started on a plan- 
tation some fifteen miles from town the 
first industrial school ever instituted for 
negroes. And it may be said that Abra- 
ham Lincoln, robbed of his purse and 
in search of a job, stopped over on the 
bluffs in the days when the embryo city 
was but a landing. Davy Crockett was 
a character in the Memphis of early 

Surrounding Memphis, and reaching 
out into other states besides that of 
which she is the metropolis, are vast 
cotton fields, productive of the finest 
quality cf the white staple, which crown 
her the greatest inland cotton market in 
the world. Nine hundred and eighty- 
four thousand [984,000] bales were the 
estimated receipts the last season, and 
ever increasing is the trade. 

Beside nine cotton compresses, she 
has eleven cotton seed oil mills, and is 
the largest producer of cotton seed oil 
products in the world. She is the larg- 
est inland sugar market in the world, 
and has a rapidly growing grain trade. 

Among the hardwood producing lum- 
ber markets of the world, Memphis 
ranks first. The timber of the magnifi- 
cent forests that abound in her district, 
as well as the manufactured product, is 
exported to all the countries of Europe. 
One hundred and twenty firms, repre- 
senting $8,000,000 are engaged in the 
lumber industry in the city, while within 
one hundred miles of here are one thou- 
sand busy saw mills. Cottonwood, cy- 



press, oak, ash, pine, tulip, mulberry, 
maple, hickory, poplar, walnut, locust, 
beach, gum, redwood, dogwood, persim- 
mon, and numerous other varieties com- 
pose her forest trees. 


While thirteen railway lines furnish 
transportation facilities for Memphis, 
making her a great railroad center, her 
shipping interests are by no means an 
unimportant factor in her history. 
Eighty-five steamers ply in and out of 
her port, and in the season cotton bales 
by the thousands, and thousands of 
sacks of cotton seed make picturesque 
her wharves. Passenger and freight 
traffic alike are big items in the river 
trade, despite fine railway facilities, and 
competition between the railroads and 
river craft make cheap transportation. 
In high water times, armies of coal 
barges float down the great stream from 
northern mines. 

To her fine geographical location and 
unexcelled railroad facilities, Memphis 
owes her prestige as a distributing point. 
As a wholesale grocery market she holds 
the fourth place. 

It is believed that stock raising is to 
be one of the coming industries of this 
section. The lands of Arkansas and 
Mississippi are considered peculiarly 
well adapted to the growing of alfalfa, 
which crop is more remunerative even 
than cotton. Alfalfa reproduces itself 

and needs to be planted only once in 
several years. Five crops can be raised 
during a season on land suitable for its 
production; and when timothy hay is 
worth two dollars a ton, alfalfa brings 
between six and seven dollars. It is 
not optimistic to predict that with the 
more extensive growing of this crop, 
this city will be a natural location for 
packing houses. 

As a sporting center, Memphis has 
a wide reputation. She has the fastest 
race course in the world. "Her trotting 
park is the fastest and best in the coun- 
try," say those capable of judging. 
Montgomery Park, with its thirty-three 
stables having accomodation for two 
thousand horses, and its splendid train- 
ing grounds, is prominent in the racing 
world, [running.] 

Surrounding her in every direction is 
a "God's Country" for sportsmen. 
Bear, deer, panther, ducks, geese, squir- 
rels, etc., are plentiful, while the streams 
and those wonderful lakes formed by 
Mississippi cut-offs, which abound in 
this region, offer choice fish to the 


angler. Across the river from Memphis 
are the wilds of Arkansas, equally as 
rich in hunting and fishing attractions- 
Many splendid hunting clubs are scat- 
tered hereabouts. 

Memphis has a fine fire department. 


She is equipped With splendid schools, 
libraries and hotels. The city covers an 
area of over sixteen square miles. It is 
situated thirty feet above high water 
mark, has 
an elevation 
of two hun- 
dred and 
seventy- two 
feet above 
the sea. The 
mean annual 
is sixty -two 
degrees; an- 
nual precipi- 
tation, 50.82 

Facts About 

The fol- 
lowing in- 
terest i ng 
facts about 
have been 
compiled by 
the Commis- 
sioner of the 
Indu s trial 

League. He is always ready and anx- 
ious to answer questions concerning 
Memphis, and if you should desire fur- 
ther information concerning Memphis, 
write him. 


T 9ol $154,482,935.75 

1902 179, 199-939- 22 

'903 214,009,558.12 

1904 260,664,326.04 

*90$ 273,422,557.40 


1902 $ 4,259,290.00 

1903 6,174,040.00 

1904 7,825,650.00 

1905 10,908,790.00 


(City and Suburbs) 

1902 $2,253,000.00 

1903 3> 2 65, 235-00 

1904 4, 594 1 1 57-69 


1901 $247,292.94 

1902 294,052.57 

1903 342,120.71 

1904 393,617.24 

1905 , 436,420.29 

Memphis has fourteen railroads, and 
the Mississippi river is equal to just that 
many more. The Volume of business in 
Memphis during 1905 Was $519,502,859, 

Mem phis 
is the largest 
h a r d w ood- 
lumber mar- 
ket in the 
world. Han- 
dled during 
1904, 383,- 
792,000 feet/ 
Memphis is 
the largest 
inland cot- 
ton market 
in the world/ 
R e ceipts 
during 1905, 
985 , o o o 
bales. Mem- 
phi s pro- 
duces more 
cotton seed 
than any city 
in the world. 
has the larg- 
est artesian water system in the world. 
Memphis has twenty banks and four 
trust companies. Capital and surplus, 
$7,500,000. Deposits $30,000,000. The 
death rate in Memphis is only 9.95 per 
1,000 white population. Compare this 
with any other city of the same popula- 
tion. Memphis has one hundred and 
thirty-one churches. Memphis has sixty- 
five schools, colleges and seminaries. 
Memphis has five theaters and two park 
theaters. Memphis has two race tracks, 
trotting and running. Memphis has 
eighty-four local steamboats. Memphis 
has two hundred and fifty miles of turn- 
pike. Memphis has one thousand acres 
in public parks. Memphis is the best 
sewered city in the United States. 
There were 9,500 houses built in Mem- 
phis and suburbs from January i, 1900, 
to January i, 1905; from January i, 
1905, to January i, 1906 there were 
2,500 houses built here. Memphis is 
a great industrial, commercial and finan- 
cial center. Memphis has a population 
of 175,436. It is the heart of the Mis- 
sissippi Valley. 



By W. C. Jenkins 

THERE is no state in the Union that 
has been the subject of more misrep- 
resentation, and yet there is no state 
whose resources are more varied and full 
of promise than the state of Wyoming. 
A few local writers have undertaken to 
portray the wonderful resources of the 
state but their efforts have been clouded 
and forced into the background by the 
work of writers who had access to metro- 
politan newspapers and magazines of 
large circulation, in which they told ro- 
mantic stories of cowboy episodes, train 
robberies and Indian depredations. 
True, incidents of this character have 
occured in the early days but at the 
present time there is no state in which 
the people entertain a keener sense of 
right and wrong or in which the laws are 
more strictly observed than in Wyoming. 
Wyoming has a distinction essentially 
its own. It has been under more rulers 
and more kinds of government than any 
other state. Wyoming has been under 
Ferdinand and Isabella. Charles I. Phil- 

ip II, Philip III, Philip IV, Charles II, 
Philip V, Ferdinand IV, Charles III, 
Charles IV, Ferdinand VII, and Joseph 
Bonaparte of Spain; Francis I, Henry 
II, Francis II, Charles IX, Henry III, 
Henry IV, Louis XIII, Louis XIV, 
Louis XV, Louis XVI, the Repubic and 
the Consulate of France and Louisiana, 
Missouri, Texas, Oregon, Utah, Nebras- 
ka, Washington, Dakota, Idaho and 
Wyoming of America. It is the only 
state that contains lands from all four of 
our principal annexations which form 
the territory west of the Mississippi 

It is not the province of this article to 
deal with the matters of history, the end 
sought to be attained in this description 
of the state being to portray its resources 
and possibilities. The latent riches of 
Wyoming are only awaiting the recogni- 
tion of outside capital and when the facts 
are fully understood the star of this 
western state will outshine that of many 
eastern states. Until very recent years, 


the development of Wyoming is hardly 
worth a mention. There has been a sys- 
tematic effort on the part of a certain 
class to keep the resources of the state 
in the back gound and to retard immi- 
gration. These men have become cattle 
kings, but the day of stock growing by 
individual owners on an immense scale 
is practically at an end. The small 
ranchmen and the farmer with limited 
means are tapping at the doors of the 
state and demanding admittance and 
while the total number of sheep and cat- 
tle raised has been largely increased 
the number raised by individual owners 
has greatly diminished. 

Wyoming is composed of territoiy 
largely within the arid region. Its ex- 
istence as an important state depends 
entirely upon water. With water the 
mountain valleys and plains can be made 
to bring forth fruit in abundance. In 
the Constitution and by-laws of the state 
the people of Wyoming seem to have 
broken away from all precedent and have 
adopted a system far in advance of that 
of other states. The ownership of water 
forever remains in the state and its con- 
trol is placed in the hands of experienced 
men instead of the courts as is the case 
in most of the arid states and the endless 
litigation into which the citizens of other 
states have been involved under court 
control led the Constitutional Conven- 
tion of Wyoming and its legislators to 
wisely steer clear of the pitfall. Kinney 
in his excellent work on Irrigation said, 
"In the state of Wyoming at least their 
will no longer be the ludicrous spectacle 
of learned judges solemnly decreeing the 
right of from two to ten times the amount 
of water flowing in the stream, or in fact 
an amount so great that the channel of 
the stream could not possibly carry that 
amount, thus practically leaving the 
question at stake as unsettled as before." 

The most important irrigation system 
in Wyoming may be found at Wheatland, 
ninety miles from Cheyenne. The pro- 
jectors of this system were the first to 
undertake the building of a great irriga- 
tion plant in Wyoming and the company 
has spent many thousands of dollars each 
year in carrying out the original ideas 
of the projectors. Notwithstanding the 
fact that in the early days the laws of 
Wyoming were illy adapted to encourage 
and advance such a project the men who 
took up the work fought the difficulties, 
and overcame the obstacles with a de- 
termination that has been commendable; 

it now seems that the sun of prosperity 
has begun to shine upon the scheme and 
the early expectations of the originators 
will be realized. The system at Wheat- 
land has certainly been an object lesson 
not only for Wyoming but for men inter- 
ested in the arid regions of other states. 
Fully 125,000 acres of land will be re- 
claimed under the Wheatland project. 
The project of irrigating lands as con- 
ducted at Wheatland is as old as the hills 
but to the people of the United States it 
is practically a new question. But few 
have ever seen an irrigation plant or any 
practical illustration of an experiment 
with irrigation in the cultivation of the 
soil. Until the pioneers of Utah began 
to settle in the Salt Lake Basin no irri- 
gation had been undertaken in any part 
of the country under the jurisdiction of 
the United States. Utah was then so 
remote that it was a score of years before 
it became an object lesson to the rest of 
the country. At the present time it is 
the leading question in a number of the 
western states. 

Fifty years ago so little was known of 
irrigation that no one ever dreamed that 
the arid regions of the west would ever 
be reclaimed through a process of this 
kind. The statesmen of fifty years ago 
did not even comprehend the future of 
these great barren tracts of land. Writ- 
ers who came to the western states pub- 
lished beautiful and fascinating descrip- 
tions of the plains and their savage life 
but they did not anticipate that their 
natural conditions would ever permit set- 
tlement by civlized man much less that 
they would ever become dotted with 
beautiful homes, farms and ranches and 
be the seat of great commercial centers. 
With all Mr. Webster's knowledge and 
ability in the discussion of the California 
question he showed that he did not even 
anticipate any great development or set- 
tlement of the country acquired from 
Mexico, and fifty years ago the opinion 
expressed was but little more advanced 
than was the opinion of an intelligent 
member of the House of Representatives, 
who, on the floor of that body in 1812 
proposed that a great territory which 
now includes the state of Iowa should be 
made a permanent Indian reservation, 
for the reason that civilization and set- 
tlement could not possibly ever pene- 
trate so far into the interior of the con- 

A few years ago the stage coach and 
slow ox and mule teams were sufficient 


to transport passengers and freight over 
the Missouri river to the scattering little 
settlements and isolated military canto- 
ments. The old emigrant trains have 
succumbed to great and well constructed 
trans-continental railroads until about 
the only road left for the prairie schoon- 
er is the right of way of the railroad 
company. The railroads have brought 
to the doors of the interior of the conti- 
nent the luxuries of the east and west 
and its ponderous wheels bear the pro- 
ducts of the fields and the cattle with all 
the speed of steam to the great market 

There has been a great change in the 
country known as the arid region of Wy- 
oming during the last few years. So ex- 
tended are its confines and possessing 
such varities of climates that it has been 
proven that within its borders the flowers 
and fruits of the tropics and all the ag- 
ricultural products common in the ex- 
tremes of the temperate zone may be 
successfully grown, yet in all countries 
irrigation is slow to develop. At first 
little streams and creeks are utilized then 
the larger streams and rivers. When 
these sources of supply are exhausted 
means are adopted to hold up the flow of 
water in the streams during the time of 
the year when it is not required for ir- 
rigation. The water is turned into their 
natural basins or into the great tanks or 
reservoirs construced by building dams 
at the outlets of gulches, canyons, rivers 
and the drainage valleys. In this way 
snow waters of the mountains and the 
storm waters of spring, summer and 
autumn are impounded and held for use 
during the growing seasons. 

The reclamation act which was ap- 
proved by the president June i7th, 1902 
will transform the state of Wyoming into 
one of the most beautiful and productive 
states of the Union. Under this law all 
moneys received from the sale of public 
lands go into a fund for the building of 
reservoirs and canals for the storage of 
water and the irrigation of lands. More 
than twenty-seven million dollars have 
already been placed to the credit of this 
fund. Wyoming through the energy of 
her representatives has already secured 
an appropriation of $3,250,000 $2,250,- 
ooo for the Shoshone project and $i,- 
000,000 for the North Platte project. It 
is estimated that during the next decade 
at least ten million dollars will be spent 
by the government in constructing irriga- 
tion projects in Wyoming. The men 

who come to the state to take up home- 
steads will find abundant opportunities 
for employment in the construction of 
reservoirs and canals and in this way 
they will be able to maintain themselves 
while their lands are becoming valuable 
and productive through the irrigation 

The greater portion of Wyoming lies 
in the Rocky Mountain region. The 
entire state is a broad expanse of vast 
plains, relieved by broken and detached 
ranges and mountain spurs. In the 
eastern part of the state is the Laramie 
range which extends north westerly for 
200 miles. Proceeding westward across 
the state we come to the Medicine Bow 
mountains and after crossing the Platte 
river we reach the main chain of the 
Rocky Mountains in a broken series of 
ranges extending through the state. In 
the western part of the state an east and 
west range of mountains is found which 
constitute the southern front of the 
Sweetwater Valley. This wall bears 
several names, to wit: Sweetwater, 
Seminole and Ferris Mountains. West 
of these lies the Green River valley, 
sixty to seventy miles across. 

In the eastern boundary are the Black 
hills extending to the northern boundary 
of the state where they come in contact 
with the Little Missouri and Wolf 
mountains. Passing over the beautiful 
valley of the Powder River and its trib- 
utaries, towards the west we find the 
magnificent Big Horn range, fifty miles 
in breadth extending 150 miles in Wy- 
oming. Still beyond in a southerly 
direction are the Owl Creek, Rattlesnake 
and Wind River mountains. 

Cheyenne is the capitol of Wyoming 
and is one of the most prosperous cities 
in the west. Its metropolitan banks, 
business houses and well laid out streets 
would do credit to any city of ten times 
its population. A more hospitable class 
of business men would be difficult to 
find. They are all self-made men and 
most of them came to the state, as one 
expressed it, "When Red Cloud was 

In those days the Indians were ex- 
tremely hostile and the new comers were 
in constant danger. Some of their 
friends who perhaps came to the state 
with them fell by the cruel hand of these 
treacherous red men but the brave 
band of pioneers were undaunted and 
they began the work of developing a 
commonwealth that in the future will be 









recognized as one of the most impor- 
tant states in the Union. 

Cheyenne is also the county seat of 
Laramie County one of the best devel- 
oped agricultural counties in the state. 
The county was organized in 1879 and 
and was named after Jacques Laramie 
who was killed near the mouth of the 
Laramie river in 1820. The county is 
full of undeveloped resources such as 
iron, copper, coal, gold, silver, sand- 
stone, marble, granite, mica and mineral 
paint. The land suitable for farm pur- 
poses is very fertile and easily cultivated. 
An irrigation project is well under way 
which will reclaim 10,000 acres of land 
adjacent to the city of Cheyenne. 

A large reservoir and a fifteen mile ca- 
nal will be built. This project originat-. 
ed several years ago and was abandoned 
for the reason that it would at that time 
shut off the water from the city of Chey- 
enne. Since then, however, a mammoth 
reservoir has been built by the city in 
the mountains. 

A distinctive feature of the progressive 
method by which the citizens of Chey- 
enne bring their beautiful little city into 
prominence is the frontier celebration. 
For the past nine years this event has 
been an annual season of jollification 
and fun. The Frontier Celebration is 
probably one of the most thrilling and 
interesting shows that has ever been en- 
acted in any country. It started in a 
small way but its success may be under- 
stood when it is stated that people come 
from every section of the country to 
witness the interesting events each year. 
More than one thousand persons take 
part in the program and the best riders 
and ropers, and the most expert and 
skillful cowboys and lady riders come 
from all over the world to compete for 
the prizes. The idea originated in the 
desire to perpetuate frontier scenes and 
re-enact the thrilling experiences of west- 
ern life. The cost of holding this cele- 
bration each year is about $15,000 which 
is raised among the citizens of Chey- 

The mineral resources of Wyoming 
are vast and varied. In fact there are 
few states that possess a greater area of 
mineral lands. The late Professor 
Knight of the state university identified 
156 of the varities of mineral noted in 
Dana's System of Mineralogy as occur- 
ing in Wyoming. This list has been 
added to since Professor Knight's death. 
It has been known for years that gold, 

silver, copper and lead existed in almost 
every mountain range in the state and it 
has recently been demonstrated that they 
may be found in paying commercial 

As far back as 1832 reports were made 
of the discovery of petroleum oil. In 
that year Captain Bonneville a pioneer 
traveler, gave to the people of the United 
States the information that oil was one of 
the resources of this western country. 
Other pioneers who went to Utah, Ore- 
gon and California and still later the 
cowboys made similar discoveries, and 
yet at the present time there are thous- 
ands of square miles in Wyoming that 
have not been prospected. The first 
development of the oil industry in Wy- 
oming took palce when mining began in 
the Black Hills. 

Prospectors commenced to collect the 
oil from the springs along the Belle 
Fourche River and haul it by wagons to 
Deadwood. In a small way they were 
able to collect five barrels a day which 
they marketed at Deadwood for $28.00 
per barrel. The late Dr. Graff of Omaha 
may be said to be the pioneer promoter 
of the oil business in Wyoming. He or- 
ganized a company which drilled in the 
Pope Agie oil field near Lander in 
1883 and before he suspended operations 
he had three flowing oil wells that pro- 
duced 200 barrels each per day. The 
distance from completed railroads, how- 
ever, was so great that the oil could not 
be marketed at a profit and the wells 
were packed. 

At the present time there are eighteen 
oil wells in Wyoming and the product 
varies from the highest grade of lubricat- 
ing oils without a trace of illuminating 
constituents to an equally high grade of 
illuminating oil totally free from lubri- 
cants and with a range of intermediate 
oils and products that is a revelation to 
those engaged in the business. The oil 
fields are situated mostly in the central 
part of the state. The successful de- 
velopment of many of these fields de- 
pends largely upon the construction of 
new railway lines but there are oppor- 
tunities at the present time for invest- 
ment adjacent to the already existing 

One of the most important factors in 
the commercial and industrial import- 
ance of Wyoming is its coal deposits. 
The early history and also the more 
recent comparatively larger development 
of the mines is so closely connected with 


the early history and development of the 
Union Pacific railroad and its branches 
that the one may be said to be the larg- 
est factor in the success and develop- 
ment of the other. The immense coal 
mines of the southern counties of the 
state depend entirely upon the Union 
Pacific for transportation and also the 
consumption of about thirty-three and 
one-third per cent of the output. Since 
the Burlington railroad has entered the 
state the coal fields of the northern 
counties have been brought into promin- 
ence and many new towns have sprung 
up as a consequence. The commercial 
development of the coal fields depend 
entirely upon the railroads as there are 
no navigable rivers that can be utilized 
to transport this product. 

While the greater part of the coal 
mining in the southern counties is carried 
on by the Union Pacific Coal company 
still this is not because the Union Pacific 
railroad is anxious to maintain a monop- 
oly but because the railroad men were 
the pioneers in the business in the state 
and have been adding to their output 
each year. It is true that previous to 
1887 the railroad did little to encourage 
individuals owners to operate the coal 
lands, but since that time a system of 
open rates has been in operation which 
has enabled the independent individual 
owners to mine their coal at a profit. 
There are thousands of acres of govern- 
ment lands subject to entry in Wyoming 
that contain millions of tons of coal, and 
when capital can be induced to build 
railroads to these lands fortunes await 
those who mine the product. 

By act of Congress of March 3, 1905, 
the Shoshone or Wind River Indian res- 
ervation in Wyoming will be thrown 
open to the public June isth, 1906, for 
settlement under the homestead act. 
The opening of this reservation is at- 
tracting a great deal of attention as it is 
known that the lands which will be sub- 
ject to entry by the general public are 
among the finest agricultural lands in 
the West. It is also known that the 
reservation is rich with minerals but re- 
liable data cannot be obtained at the 
present time as the number of persons 
who possess information on the subject 
are very few and they are secretly guard- 
ing the knowledge they have gained. 

The reservation lies at an elevation 
of from 4,300 to more than 6,000 feet, 
it has been estimated that 250,000 acres 
of the reservation is good farming land 

while the balance may be used for graz- 
ing purposes. In the mountainous port- 
tion there is considerable timber. 

Two great railroad lines are heading 
for the reservation and they promise 
completion by the date on which the 
opening will take place. 

Persons making homestead entries on 
the reservation within two years are re- 
quired to pay $1.50 per acre but on 
entries made thereafter the sum of $1.25 
is to be paid. Fifty cents per acre is 
to be paid at the time of making the 
entry and twenty-five cents per acre 
annually thereafter until the price pro- 
vided for has been fully paid. Lands 
entered under the townsite, coal and 
mineral land laws must be paid for in 
amount and manner provided for in said 
law. The ceded portion embraces 
about two thirds of the reservation and 
is approximately 1,150,000 acres. 

It has been said that if all other re- 
sources of Wyoming could fail it would 
still be known to the world through the 
Yellowstone National Park. This won- 
derful locality was discovered by John 
Colter in 1807 but it remained for the 
exploring parties of 1869, 1870 and 1871 
to give the park the publicity that it de- 
served. By act of Congress of 1872 it 
was reserved as a National Park The 
park is situated in the northwest corner 
of Wyoming and is sixty-two miles long 
and fifty-four miles wide. Its control is 
under the special authority of the feder- 
al government. Volumes have been 
written about the National Park but its 
grandeur and beauty have scarcely been 
mentioned. The scenery is not equalled 
by anything in the world. It is too 
grand, its scope too immense, its de- 
tails too varied to admit of even an at- 
temp at its description in this article, for 
nearly every form, animate or inani- 
mate, in dream or fancy, ever seen or 
conjured by the imagination may here 
be found. Here is that which is chaste- 
ly beautiful, hidden away in some dim- 
lighted alcove or bower, while all about 
is the grim visaged and towering strength 
of the silent mountain sentinel. The 
eye is never weary, for the scene is ever 
shifting, ever becoming more grand, 
imposing and impressive. 

The tourist season lasts from June un- 
til October, and the summer climate is 
unexcelled. Each one must see for him- 
self to appreciate the generosity of na- 
ture which has planned this great enter- 
tainment for those of the human rage 


who can see the grand exhibition. The 
poet may find his theme, the artist an 
inexhaustible supply of studies and the 
scientist a rich field for research. Fish 
are swimming the streams in abundance, 
while deer and other game are plenti- 

It is true that contagious and infec- 
tious diseases occasionally -break through 
the state lines from the less healthy 
states but the legislature has enacted a 
health law which is said to excel any 
law of this kind found upon the statute 
book of any state in the Union. A board 
of health appointed by the governor with 
its vast ramifications of health officers is 
given unlimited power. As to the es- 
tablishment of quarantines and the en- 
forcement of rigid diciplines therein. 
The result has been the establishment of 
strict police surveillance in all parts of 
the state to prevent the spread of con- 
tagious diseases. 

Few states in the Union have been so 
free from scandals in public life. From 
the organization of the state government 
until the present administration with 
Governor Brooks at its head the admin- 
istration of its laws and the conduct of 

its officials have been exemplary. At 
its admission to the Union Wyoming 
adopted equal suffrage and no one in 
the state regrets the decision. 

The people of Wyoming say to men 
with money; "Come to our state and 
investigate our resources; we have un- 
explored fields of wealth that invite cap- 
ital for development. Our exemptions 
are moderate; our collection laws are 
good ; our rates of interest are liberal. 
We invite the manufacturers and every 
inducement will be found awaiting them. 
We have no cumbersome laws to vex 
them. We invite railroads. We have 
vast stretches of undeveloped territory, 
and our laws will be found more liberal 
than are found in any other state. We 
invite the farmer and we promise that 
with the development of our irrigation 
system a soil that is most productive 
and a ready market for the produce of 
the farmers. We have carved our state 
out of the choicest part of the Rocky 
Mountains, locating it on the very crest 
and on either side of the Continental 
Divide and we have peopled it with a 
race made up from the best blood of the 
nations of the world. 


Photo by H. B. Tuttle 


By Charles H. Congdon 


THE third week of the month of May, 
1906, will bring together for a few 
days from every state in the Union, from 
all parts of America, and no doubt from 
points in foreign climes, old residents, 
the sons and daughters of Geneva who 
have journeyed away from home in other 
years in search of fame and fortune. 
They will come back by the hundreds 
to join with the hospitable citizens of 
the beautiful lakeside city in celebrating 
its centennial. 

One hundred years ago, on the sixth 
of April, the village of Geneva was in- 
corporated. For one whole year its citi- 
zens have been getting ready to cele- 
brate the event and the chamber of com- 
merce, the common council and the His- 
torical Society are represented in a gen- 
eral committee of arrangements to lay 
out the plans. Under them sub-com- 
mittees have worked out the details of 

the different features of the week's pro- 
gram. A persistant secretary, Charles E. 
Young, has devoted the year to corre- 
spondence, hunting out every former 
Genevan who could be found on the face 
of the earth. 

It will be an old home week of a hun- 
dred years. Amid the glare of fireworks, 
the music of the band and all the carni- 
val gaiety, old ties that have been 
severed in other years will be cemented 
again, old friendships renewed and lives 
that have drifted apart will touch, if only 
for a few fleeting hours. 

So much for the forthcoming event of 
great importance to one of the most 
beautiful cities in the whole wide world. 

In the latter part of the eighteenth 
century pioneer white men first took up 
their abode among the Indians in the 
forest wilderness at the foot of Seneca 
Lake. Among them was Captain Wil- 


Photo by J. B. Hale 

liamson, representing the great Pulteney 
estate in which English capital had ir- 
vested. Included in this vast tract ^t. 
land reaching from Lake Ontario on the 
north to the present Pennsylvania line 
on the south was the site of Geneva, and 
because of its beautiful and accessible 
location it was at once chosen as the 
place for the land office and a village. 
With a full appreciation of the resources 
of this rich country, with a vivid im- 
agination and constructive energy, the 
captain marked out and built the begin- 
nings of Geneva. This Geneva tavern, 
built in 1795, facing the lake, fronting 
on the village green and the main street, 
became famous as one of the best of its 
day in the State of New York. Here 
General LaFayette was entertained at 
the time of his memorable visit thirty 
years later. Its original framework 
stands today as part of the Geneva 
Hygienic Institue. 

Geneva never grew to be a large city 
because it never stood in the main path 
of the tide of western migration no{ on 
the main avenues of commerce between 
the West and the East. Before the days 
of the railroad the old state road 
from Albany to Buffalo, passing through 
Geneva, as well as the roads north and 
south were well traveled by the stage 
coach, which kept the town in touch with 

the outside world, but no boom ever 
came to hasten its growth. Its location 
on the rising land overlooking for miles 
the largest of the inland lakes, has 
rather attracted men and women of 
wealth and leisure, culture and refine- 
ment. While manufactories and com- 
merce always have flourished, the town 
is equally famous for its old colonial 
mansions, its handsome residences, 
beautiful streets, its efficient private 
and public schools, its churches, and as 
the home of Hobart college. 

A gradual and healthy growth during 
all the years of a century has made 
Geneva of today a little city of fourteen 
thousand people, but every one of them 
public-spirited and ambitious that their 
town shall excel in everything worth 

A well-organized chamber of com- 
merce, whose membership includes prac- 
tically every business and professional 
man in the city, has during the past five 
years succeeded in contributing to its 
commercial growth and in bringing in 
new capital and new industries. This 
work has been brought about largely by 
making known to the world Geneva's 
superior shipping facilities, its healthful 
and attractive place of residence and the 
hospitality of its people. 

While some of the wealth of the city 





Photo by H B. Tuttle 


has been brought here by those who 
have made it elsewhere, and some has 
been created by local industries, by far 
the major part has come from the fertile 
soil of the surrounding country, which 
has become famous as the richest nursery 
and fruit growing section of the state. 

Thomas B. Wilson, president of the 
New York State Fruit Grower's associa- 
tion is authority for the statement that 
not less than 200,000 barrels of apples 
are grown yearly in the vicinity of 
Geneva, beside an immense amount of 
pears, plums, grapes, peaches, cherries, 
quinces and apricots, all of which taken 
together will amount in money value to 
a sum not far from $500,000. 

The first industry that made 
Geneva known throughout the word is 
the cultivation of nursery stock. Up- 
wards of forty firms are engaged as 
growers of trees within a radius of six 
miles of the city, having under cultiva- 
tion a total of two thousand acres of 
land, more than three thousand tons of 
trees are annually shipped through the 
freight houses of the city. 

Closely allied to the nursery and fruit 
interests comes agriculture itself. The 
country around Geneva is noted for its 
many rich farms scientifically cultivated. 
The prosperity of these farms is no doubt 
due in part to the assistance rendered 
by the New York State Agricultural Ex- 
periment station, or the "State Farm," 
as it is familiarly called, located just on 

Photo by H. B. Tuttle 


the borders of the city. The station was 
established in 1881 by an act of the 
legislature, and began its work in 
March, 1882. "The work of the sta- 
tion deals with the air and soil, with 
plants and animals and their nutrition, 
growth and breeding, with the dis- 
eases, insects and conditions which 
are deleterious to plant and ani- 
mal growth, with farm methods, and 
with the technics involved in the man- 
ipulation and manufacturing of argicul- 
tural products." The station has a sci- 
entific staff under the direction of Dr. 
Whitman H. Jordan, of more than 
twenty men beside other employes, a 
farm and grounds of one hundred and 
thirty acres on which are located eight 
principal buildings and other minor 
structures beside fruit plantations and 
other means of experimental work, the 
various buildings containing nine labora- 
tories equipped with scientific appa- 
ratus. The station staff is divided into 
groups, or departments, including the 
following: Animal, husbandry, bacteri- 
lpgy> botany, chemistry, entomology, 

Near the Experiment Station on the 
south lies one of the most famous and 
perfectly equipped farms in the state, 
known as the White Springs farm. This 
farm is owned and operated by Alfred 
G. Lewis, a former resident of Buffalo. 
The property comprises three hundred 


and seventy acres, sloping in gentle in 
cline toward Seneca lake, and from its 
manor house a wide, sweeping view of 
the lake, the city and surrounding coun- 
try is obtained. The soil is unsurpassed 
for its great fertility. The farm buildings 
set in a quadrangle surrounding a spa- 
cious courtyard, are extensive and mod- 
ern in every respect. They are lighted 
throughout by electricity. The herd of 
cattle consists of Guernseys, bred from 
stock of high pedigree, noted for size, 
constitution and production. The White 
Springs Farm Dairy Company helps sup- 
ply Geneva with milk and other dairy 

The city of Geneva lies in a semi- 
circle around the west and north sides 
of Seneca lake, and reaches back to the 
west on successively rising plateaus. A 
total of twelve and a half out of its 
twenty-nine miles of streets are well 
paved, with a mile more of pavement 
to be added this year. An abundant 
and pure water supply comes through a 
perfect system of mains owned by the 
city, from the White Springs and from 
the clear, cool depths of Seneca lake 
two miles and a half south from the 

Six well-equipped companies afford 
ample protection against fire. Two 
newspapers, a daily and a weekly, keep 
the people informed on the events of 
small and great importance. There a-re 
two telephone systems, three banks, five 
public, two parochial and several private 
schools, and the Hobart college; eleven 
churches, the Smith Astronomical obser- 
vatory, two mineral springs whose waters 
make Geneva a household word from 
the Atlantic to the Pacific, a splendid 
city hospital, several excellent hotels, a 
Young Men's Christian association in 
an expensive building of its own, and 
clubs and societies without number. 
Progressive merchants keep bright and 
busy stores. Capable and businesslike 
city officials conduct the city govern- 
ment, most of them without pay, 

2 w 

O H 

O O 

J X 

W td 

K Q 


and unhampered by partisanship. 

Among Geneva's principal industries 
are to be mentioned The Philips & Clark 
Stove Company, The Summit Foundry 
Company, The Fay & Bowen Engine 
Company, manufacturers of motors and 
motor boats, The Herendeen Manufac- 
turing Company, manufacturers of boil- 
ers and hot water heaters, The New 
York Central Iron Works Company, The 
Catchpole Boiler, Foundry and Machine 
Company, The Vance Boiler Works, The 
Geneva Cutlery Company, The Ameri- 
can Can 'Company, The Geneva Pre- 
serving Company, The Torry Park Pre- 
serving Company, The Nester Malt 
House, The Standard Optical Com- 
pany, The Geneva Optical Company, 
The Patent Cereals Company, The 
Geneva Woven Label Company, The 
Geneva Textile Company, The Fairfax 
Wall Paper Company, The Geneva Fur- 
niture Company, Davison's and Robin- 
son's Flour mill, The Geneva Wagon 
Company, C. A. Chapman, household 

The products of most of these con- 
cerns bear the name of Geneva and are 
sold all over the world. 

As a railroad center Geneva is a 
point of no mean importance. On the 
ten steam railway lines, forty-five 
trains enter and depart from the city 

The Auburn and the Pennsylvania di- 

Photo by J. E. Hale 

visions of the New York Central provide 
easy access to all points in that system, 
with parlor and sleeping cars to New 
York, Albany, Boston, Buffalo, Chicago 
and other cities. The Lehigh Valley 
main line and "old road" bring Buffalo, 
Rochester, Ithaca, New York, Philadel- 
phia, Baltimore and Washington within 
easy access. 

Two suburban trolley lines bring city 
and country towns and villages together 
and the Seneca and Cayuga division of 
the Erie canal makes cheap transporta- 
tion for coal, grain and all kinds of 
freight. Seneca lake steamers during 
the Summer carry tourists to resorts all 
along the way and to the far famed 
Watkins Glen at the head of the lake, 
forty miles distant. 

Photo by J. E. Hale 

D ACK from Mexico and again at work 
in the old rocking chair I tell you 
it seems good. I thought I might be 
able to tell you all about it in the April 
issue, but after I got home with about 
seventeen baskets of Mexican souvenirs, 
drawn work, Cuernavaca pottery, enough 
statues for a museum, a bushel of pet- 
rified forest and other curios of all 
sorts discovered that I had far too 
much matter for one issue. I must re- 
sist the impulse to tell you all about it 
now, because I find that the genial folks 
at home have only given me a few pages 
this time, but we will break over the 
bounds next month and have a jolly 
good talk all together. 

# * # 

The map of Mexico looks different 
to me now, and I find that I can say 
those apparently unpronounceable names 
quite fluently, with no less trouble than 
I find in saying "Boston," while "Si, 
si, senor," "Quanto," and other stock 
phrases are common utterances in our 
household. Really feel that I am on the 
way to a Spanish scholarship. The whole 
tour was replete with incident and inspir- 
ation. Do you realize that only sixty 
hours from St. Louis brings you to the city 
of Mexico well to the South of the repub- 
lic? In a few hours of railroad travel you 
pass into another world, filled with a 
composite of ancient and modern civil- 
ization and having all the quaint pictur- 
esqueness of the past ages of Europe and 
Asia mingled with modern activities. 
Hitherto it has been considered neces- 

sary to make a trip abroad in order to 
see such sights, but here in Mexico 
right on our own soil so to speak may 
be found a real touch of the Occident 
and the Orient. If "Westward the 
course of empire takes it way," it seems 
that it has veered in this case somewhat 
to the So' west, and I cannot resist paying 
a tribute to President Diaz pronounced 
Dee-us whose name indicates the dial 
of the day. Scarcely a day passes in 
which the name of the president of the 
republic to the south of us, is not in the 
mind of the people of the United States. 
He richly deserves the highest tribute 
which can be paid him, for he has made 
a modern Mexico out of a country with 
chaotic history. The young giant, the 
new republic, has risen out of the effete 
remains of an ancient civilization. 
* * * 

En route I read Prescott's Conquest of 
Mexico, and it seemed as though I was 
in touch for the moment with centuries 
long past, though passing through a 
country where real modern-day push and 
enterprise manifested itself in the up- 
building of progressive Mexico. 

Well we had a jolly time; there were 
1 15 in our party and it was mighty home- 
like to find among them a large num- 
ber of National Magazine subscribers. 
Now of course they are all subscribers. 
Then too, I was able to note the various 
places and things in which these sub- 
scribers were interested that would also 
be likely to entertain all our readers, so I 
carefully regarded the observations of the 


party. Aside from the historic interest 
the tour to Mexico presents a fascinating 
question of the future. The establish- 
ment of commercial amity and political 
entity is the goal before us. If you have 
any ideas of annexation in your heads, 
just see that they are promptly exploded, 
for contact with the patriotic Mexicans 
proves that nothing of this kind would 
be practical or possible. You see at once 
that the pledge which we gave the coun- 
tries to the south of us in the Cuban 
Republic is sufficient, but the careful 
observer will soon discover that political 
annexation could bring nothing but dis- 
advantages to all parties concerned, 
although close commercial interchange 
is the inevitable drift and tendency. 

When I stood at the gates of the sta- 
tion, watching the group of 1 1 5 assemble, 
and looked into the faces of the people 
who were to be our companions for the 
next four or five weeks, I concluded that 
they were a merry lot those members of 
our "touree." There was the genial Gen- 
eral Gates all ready to give a welcome. 
No tickets were required at that gate, 
and one little traveler remarked that at 
least it was clear we were not going 
anywhere inside the confines of Russia, 
where it is difficult to travel without a 
passport of official pretensions. 

When we looked on that triangular red 
banner on the rear of the train and the 
red lights winking a greeting at us, and 
found our little compartment, we really 
felt as though we had dropped into some 
little home snuggery, rather than the 
close quarters of a tourist train. We 
seemed to be starting out for a tour 
around the whole world, and I found it 
difficult to believe within seventy hours 
from Chicago we should reach a foreign 
capital. We hung up our things and 
prepared for the voyage. There was a 
hearty cheer as the train left the station, 
and it was not long before many particu- 
lars of the life story of most of the pass- 

engers was mysteriously known to their 
fellow travelers as on the deck of a ship. 

* * * 

But I must not linger let it suffice 
to say that when it came to parting, 
there were many of that 115 whose eyes 
glistened, so endeared had we become to 
each other. One remarkable thing 
about the party was that in the five 
weeks there was not even an indication 
of a "family jar." It was altogether the 
best natured party that could be gathered 
and the whole trip was filled with pleas- 
ant happenings and wonderful sights that 
will furnish delightful memories as long 
as life shall last. So I want to intro- 
duce you to them next month the 115. 
* * * 

During those days I collected a port- 
manteau of notes, and it will take many 
pages of the magazine if I am ever 
to utilize the half of them. But I am 
going to try to tell you all the details 
next month, and we will start out on 
the trip together. Pack your satchel, 
don't forget your camera and note books, 
and we will collect the matter and the 
views. We will meet the people mer- 
chants and officials, the peons, the flocks 
of children, in school and out, we will 
ride on the mules up the mountains and 
have a jolly good time in quaint and 
sunny old Mexico together. 

Remember this all comes next month 
May and if there are any questions 
you want answered, now is the time to 
send them in. I want to make this as 
comprehensive and realistic to you as it 
has been to me. And when you get 
through you can make your plans for a 
trip to Mexico with the pleasure of an- 
ticipation which we have already 
realized. No tickets will be required in 
our trip next month we'll just take a peep 
into the land which the Astecs won from 
the Toltecs and which has furnished the 
most thrilling and fascinating story of 
all history. Train starts promptly on 
arrival of the May National. 


I N visiting Washington it is always en- 
tertaining to get at the real nub of 
a bill from the author. Over a piece of 
custard pie, such as mother used to 
make, and a glass of milk, Congressman 
McCleary gave me a few sentences which 
contained the gist of the House Bill 
Number 9752, which is without doubt 


one of the most important measures now 
pending before congress. 

Congressman McCleary has a way of 
clearly and lucidly stating matters, which 
is most refreshing when one is in search 
of reliable information. His great speech 

in '96 did more than any other one thing 
to set people thinking on the side of 
sound money then the all-absorbing 
national question. 

Between draughts of refreshing milk, 
Mr. McCleary gave me the following in- 
formation, stating the whole situation 
concisely. A speech in the Congressional 
Record occupying forty pages 
would probably not express 
the gist of the bill as clearly 
as is done in these brief lines. 
He said between bites of 
the custard pie: "This bill 
aims to carry out the two 
chief recommendations of 
that part of the president's 
last annual message relating 
to the tariff. He suggest- 
ed that 'it should be consid- 
ered whether it is not desira- 
ble that the tariff laws should 
provide for applying as 
against or in favor of any 
other nation maximum and 
minimum tariff rates estab- 
lished by congress, so as to 
secure a certain reciprocity 
of treatment between other 
nations and ourselves.' The 
president's first and most 
important recommendation 
as to the tariff was that 'There 
is more need of stability than 
of the attempt to attain an 
ideal perfection in the 
methods of raising revenue.' 
To preserve stability, this 
bill adopts the present law 
as the standard and pro- 
vides that our present duties 
be increased by twenty-five 
per cent, on goods coming 
from any country which in 
discriminates against goods 
United States. On goods 
now on the free list coming from 
such a country the bill provides that 
there shall, be levied and collected a 
duty of twenty-five per cent, ad valorem. 

any way 
from the 


Throughout our entire national his- 
tory, no matter what party has framed 
our laws, it has in the main and 
with only minor exceptions been the 
policy of this country to have one 
uniform treatment for every country 
in the world, giving 'equal opportunity 
to all, special privileges to none.' 
This bill is in harmony with that 
policy. Our rates are the same for 
all countries. The goods of all may 
enter on the same terms. And every 
country that discriminates against us 
will be treated in the same equal way. 
There is no country so small that we do 
not value its friendship; there is no 
country so great that we fear its enmity. 
We propose to continue making our own 
laws, neither submitting to threats of the 
strong nor yielding to the cajolery of the 

This is certainly a principle on which 
good Americans can stand without fear 
or favor. 

A FTER Mr. Carnegie had given 
away upward of $139,000,000 in 
direct philanthropic work, no tribute 
seems more fitting to express the 
gratitude of the recipients of one of 
his benefactions than the event which 
occurred last November in Mankato, 
the charming Minnesota Athens. 

I have often wondered considering 
the manner in which he distributes his 
wealth whether Mr. Carnegie has been 
adequately thanked for his benefac- 
tions, and whether the gratitude felt 
toward him has. ever been expressed 
in a specific way. 

However, it was certainly done in 
a most graceful form at the recent meet- 
ing of the library directors in Mankato, 
when an oil portrait of the benefactor 
being the latest one painted was pre- 
sented by Mr. McCleary to the library. 
This painting is the work of Mr. Free- 
man Thorp, one of the foremost artists 
in the country, who has painted the por- 

traits of Grant, Garfield, McKinley and 
Speakers Elaine and Cannon. Many 
of Mr. Carnegie's friends consider this 
the best picture of him yet painted. 

As a former school teacher there is 
ne- one who more keenly appreciates 
the value of Mr. Carnegie's generosity 
than Congressman J. T. McCleary, of 
Mankato, Minnesota, and his gift evi- 
dences this appreciation. 

The expression of Mr. Carnegie's 
youthful gratitude to Colonel Allison, 
of Alleghany, for loaning him books is 
something that has reached singular and 
enduring proportions. ' Mr. Carnegie 
has certainly utilized the "pass-it-on" 
rule; the good work accomplished by 
his gifts would indeed be difficult to 
estimate. Andrew Carneige has surely 
builded better than he knows. Ever 
since I had the pleasure of visiting him 
at Skibo Castle, I have felt that few 
people realize the broad, comprehensive 
and enduring uses of wealth as does the 
Laird of Skibo. 

The library's reception of the gift was 
really touching as a tribute to Mr. 
Carnegie. Among other things was 

"We hope that this portrait, and the 
face it depicts, hanging in our library 
building, will serve as an object lesson 
to residents of the city, causing them to 
remember the library and its needs, and 
that in the near future other evidences 
of interest in the library's welfare will be 
shown in gifts of pictures, paintings and 
statuary, furnishing Mr. McCleary cause 
for gratification because of his thought- 
ful gift of this portrait. 

"As we look upon this portrait we are 
led to renew our thanks to Mr. Carnegie, 
assuring him that the magnificent library 
building which his generosity has pro- 
vided is thoroughly appreciated by our 
entire community, and that its advan- 
tages are being eagerly sought, not only 
those whom it was his purpose to reach 
by his act but by all classes of our citi- 




s a la 

Dainty, Delicious and Wholesome 
Anyone Can Prepare Them 

6 Eggs j Tablespoonful Flour 

i Tablespoonful Butter Salt to Season 

y* Pint Milk Pepper to' Season 

y*t Teaspoonful Armour's Extract of Beef 

Directions for Preparing 

<J Boil the eggs fifteen minutes; remove the shells and cut them in halves 
crosswise. Slice a little off the bottom to make them stand. Put the 
butter in frying pan to melt, then add the flour. Mix until smooth, add 
the milk, and stir constantly until it boils. Add the Extract of Beef, 
(previously dissolved in water) salt and pepper. Stand the eggs on a 
heated platter; pour the sauce over and around them. Serve very hot. 
| There are fifty other recipes or more in Culinary Wrinkles. 
Sent postpaid on request if you enclose a metal cap from a jar of 



f * 


Sold by all Dru^^ists and Grocers 

_/ <~j*~j.. 


Don't fail to mention "The National Magazine" when writing to advertiser?. 




The gift of this portrait was the result 
of Mr. McCleary's contemplation of the 

life of Mr. Carnegie and his benefac- 
tions. He asked himself, 







I ( 





Born at Adams, Massachusetts, February IS, 1820; died at Rochester, New York, March 12, 1906 

Miss Anthony was probably the ablest and best known of all the women reformers of her era in either Europe 
or America. For more than half a century she gave her whole time and strength to the work of 
enlarging the political and industrial rights of her sex. She early perceived that the right to labor 
must be backed up by the right to vote, or there can be no true freedom. She was an advocate of 
woman suffrage because she knew that woman must remain more or less a serf until she gets power 
to enforce her demands at the ballot-box. She summed up the story of her life-work, and its fruits, in 
the four-volume "History of Woman Suffrage," written in collaboration with Elizabeth Cady Stanton 
and Ida Husted Harper. With her passing, the cause of the lowly and the oppressed of both sexes 
and of all races has lost a devoted and powerful advocate and friend. Her high place in American 
history is far more secure than that of any of the alleged "statesmen" who proved their gallantry and 
their sense of fair play by jeering and sneering at the great-hearted, far-sighted woman who has now 
passed from mortality to immortality. F. P. 



MAY, 1906 


Attains ai 

Lj[yJoe Mitcnell Cncipple 

ONE of the most interesting recent 
sessions of the senate, from a public 
gallery viewpoint, was the one in which 
the final speeches were made on the 
statehood bill. 

Senator Beveridge, who, as chairman 
of the territories committee, has given 
the question years of study, had the bill 
in charge, and on this occasion was to 
make his final speech upon it. The gal- 

leries were early crowded and even the 
corridors were filled. I saw Senator 
Beveridge in Senator Allison's room as 
he was leaving for the floor, to make his 
supreme effort. 

On the walls of the senate chamber 
was a formidable array of maps, and at 
one side a blackboard, indicating how 
much land had already been irrigated in 
the two great territories of Arizona and 







New Mexico. The speaker of the occa- 
sion was in splendid voice, and every 
paragraph of his address was faultless. 
He has a dramatic way of drawing word 
pictures that makes all he says entertain- 

Senator Beveridge wore the conven- 
tional "Prince Albert" with a standing 
collar,and as he stood shaking his parted 
locks, he made a fine picture of a 
senatorial orator. 

Senator McCumber had opened the 
debate in the morning, pleading very 
effectively for separate statehood for the 
two territories. 

At the very start of his speech it was 
evident Senator Beveridge was not to 
have a clear field to himself on the floor. 
He was most frequently interrupted by 
Senator Patterson and Senator Teller 

the two Coloradans who have the habit 
of "wanting to know," and of bringing 
out all there is in a question. 

During a scene of this kind it is inter- 
esting to study the mannerisms of the 
various senators. Each one has his 
favorite attitude when giving a respectful 
hearing to a brother speaker. There was 
Senator Spooner, sitting squarely before 
his desk, and casting quick side-glances 
now and then at the speaker, while Sen- 
ator Allison turned half-around and 
assumed an easy and placid posture as 
he listened. Senator Foraker, with his 
troublesome amendment pending, sat 
near Senator Beveridge, with his arm 
over the back of his chair, moving now 
and then to take a note. 

Senator La Follette, compelled to take 
a seat in the "Cherokee strip" on the 




democratic side, sat with arms folded 
and pompadour hair erect, and looked as 
he does in his picture complete. 

Senator Pettus squared around, with 
one arm on his desk, and looked serenely 
over his spectacles at the speaker. 

Senator Clarke of Montana occupied 
a seat on the republican side. He has 
bushy hair and beard, and sat looking 
straight before him, a quiet and attentive 

Senator Alger, in one of the rear seats, 
with both arms on his chair, seemed to 
be very much interested in the statehood 
bill, while Senator Gallinger stopped fuss- 
ing with his papers long enough to turn 
an attentive ear to what was going on. 

Senator Hopkins leaned back in his 



chair as he might have done to enjoy a 
good evening at the theater. 

Senator Nelson, sitting squarely on his 
chair, sturdy Norwegian that he is, had 
a suggestion now and then for the 
speaker during the interruptions. Sen- 
ator Dillingham, the keen and dignified 
Vermonter, who is one of the best-in- 
formed members of the senate on the 
statehood question, was near at hand. 





Photograph by Clinedinst, Washington 

Senator Newlands, in a rear seat on of the old days and the fight on the irri- 
the democratic side, with his legs crossed, gation bill, 
looked as though he might be thinking Perhaps the finest picture of all was 




Senator Beveridge, standing erect before 
his desk, every inch an orator, with his 
papers before him, ready for the debate. 
He responded with telling effect to the 
interrogations which poured upon him 
thick and fast. He was interrupted 
almost constantly, but with a vast fund 
of information at his command he held 
his own. That speech could not possibly 
have been constructed any more skill- 
fully as an oratorical effect. Senator 
Beveridge is certainly firmly established 
as one of the great orators of the senate, 
and his state and the nation may well be 
proud of his splendid abilities as senator, 
orator and author.. 
This scene more than ever emphasized 

the well-poised and com- 
prehensive spirit of the sen- 
ate as a whole, and there is 
no career so well fitted to 
develop the power and spirit 
of a man. 

My seat that day in the 
public gallery was beside a 
man who had come from 
Oklahoma. When Senator 
Beveridge was reaching one 
of his greatest heights, 'in 
which he alluded to the fer- 
tile prairies of Oklahoma 
territory, my neighbor could 
not resist it; he jumped up 
in his seat in an excited 
fashion and, without rais- 
ing his voice, exclaimed: 
"Yes, yes. I have 160 
acres of it, and no man 
is happier than I. You 
bet it's God's country." 
However, he regained his 
composure and took his 
seat before the sad-faced 
usher could reach him 
through the crowded aisles. 
Arizona and New Mexico 
will probably be deprived of 
statehood for the present 
session, at least. This seems 
a peculiar and unfortunate 
situation, and the differ- 
ent votes taken were very confusing 
to the outside observer. In fact, it was 
not much to be wondered at that Sen- 
ator Scott of West Virginia came out 
from the coat-room and registered a neg- 
ative vote by mistake, which he after- 
wards had to change, reversing the pro- 
spect of a tie, which reminded many 
present that Vice-President Fairbanks 
was once more losing chance to vote. 
When first taken, the vote was thirty-five 
to thirty-five, but the change in Senator 
Scott's vote made it thirty-six to thirty- 

The senate in session upon these oc- 
casions affords fascinating glimpses of 
national life, for when all is said there 



are few sights more inspir- 
ing than a view of the upper 
house in session. 

On all three sides of the 
senate chamber were repre- 
sentatives who had come 
over from the opposite side 
of the Capitol to see the 
event of the day, and doubt- 
less many of them were 
dreaming of the days when 
they, too, might occupy a 
seat on this side of the 
Capitol, for more often than 
ever before the senate is 
now recruited from mem- 
bers of the house of repre- 

Congressman Adam *Bede 
was there, with arms 
akimbo, -watching the 
senatorial fireworks and 
probably comparing them 
with those of the house. 


THESE are strenuoustimes 
in the executive office. 
There is a continuous dele- 
gation of "hand-shakers," 
as they are often called. 
The president is kept busy 
every minute of his time. 

Even the cabinet room 
is thronged on days when 
the cabinet is not in session. The 
visitors may be seen embracing their 
overcoats, despite the new coat-racks in 
the corner, which remain unused. The 
president passes around the room with 
a rapid-fire of remark and comment 
which would soon wear out an ordinary 
man, though he seems to thrive on it. 
He hears the man who has something 
to say on the Alaskan situation and 
wishes for information on railroads in 
that state. President Roosevelt promptly 
answers his inquiries. Another man 
wants an appointment in the army and 
navy, and the president quickly grasps 
the details. Occasionally there is a guest 




who taxes the president's memory by re- 
calling some scene or event of one of 
his many trips taken during his eventful 
career. It seems to be quite the proper 
thing to try to recall some scene in 
one's life in which Mr. Roosevelt is con- 
cerned. One remarked: 

"You remember I went over to Europe 
with your cousin in 1868." 

But this time the president blinked 
behind his spectacles and did not seem 
to have a keen remembrance of the 
travels of his cousin. Another visitor 
knew a cousin, I think it was a fourth, 
and I wondered how the mind of one 
man could even attempt to arrange all 





From a stereograph copyright 1906 by Underwood 
& Underwood 

this mass of detail. It certainly passes 
my comprehension, but there is prob- 
ably no more attractive trait in the char- 
acter of Theodore Roosevelt than the 
brisk and cheerful way in which he 
fulfills his task day after day, meeting 
men of all temperaments, from every 
state, territory and section of the nation, 
while yet he remains his own true self 
equal to every demand. 

It was not cabinet day, and the people 
thronged into the catbinet room, where 
the chairs were all prbperly labelled, and 
one could readily imagine the president 
at the head of the table, with the secre- 
tary of state at his right and th post- 
master-general on his left. One could 
almost hear the rap of the fist-like gavel 
as he called the cabinet to proceed 
with business. On the walls are 
maps, showing a live interest in the 
Panama question, and a number of 
the immortal sayings of Lincoln. 

In the president's room was an array 
of pink primroses in bloom, and on his 
desk were his favorite heliotrope and 
Jacqueminot roses, a number of books 
and a mass of papers, revealing what 
a busy workshop this office now is. 
Over the mantel is a painted portrait of 
Lincoln, flanked on either side by mottoes 
apt and inspiring. In the corner the 
great globe three feet in diameter is 
mains an object of interest to callers. 

In the adjoining anteroom were vari- 
ous distinguished visitors, waiting their 
turn. In the room of Secretary Loeb 
were also decorations of primroses and 
roses, and here, too, were a coterie of 
visitors, who watched while the secretary 
handled the correspondence and kept 
grist in the mill at a lively pace. Just 
about noon the "Mystic Shriners" ap- 


Prom a stereograph copyright 1906 by Underwood 
& Underwood 

peared, and it is supposed that they gave 
the president a chance to "hold on to 
the ropes," but no record is extant of 




any initiation exercises, nor is it told 
that he "drank camel's milk." There 
was no evidence that the president took 
a degree from the Mystic Shrine. 


However great Theodore Roosevelt 
may have been when he entered the 
presidential chair, it does not require 
an acute observer to decide that day by 








day the splendid power of the man is 
developing under the vast responsibility 
thrust upon him. 


CEW military funerals in Washington 
have been more impressive than that 
of Lieutenant - General Schofield. He 
selected the spot in which he wished to 
be buried at Arlington, close beside 
General Sheridan and near the Temple 
of Fame. 

It seems only a few days ago that I 
was with him at St. Augustine, at the 
Ponce de Leon. It was at the Yacht 
Club receptions that the general de- 
lighted in telling those old, mirthful 
Irish jokes, replete with humor, and re- 
calling memories of .his career. 

General Granville M. Dodge, one of 
the few major-generals of the Civil war 
yet living, was a close friend of Gen- 

eral Scofield and came on from New 
York City to attend the funeral. I Tnet 
him afterward in the room of Senator 
Allison. How his eyes sparkled as he 
recalled episodes of his early career; the 
tribute paid by him to his old comrade 
in arms was one of the most eloquent I 
ever heard from the lips of man, not 
only because of its fine sentiment, but 
because of that subtle expression which 
indicated the depth of -his friendship in 
a way that no spoken words could do. 
It was General Schofield who first con- 
ceived the idea of using troops to pre- 
vent the detention of the United States 
mails during strikes, which was done at 
Rock Springs, Colorado, years ago, and 
it was on his advice that President 
Cleveland acted so promptly in the 
Chicago railroad riots. The veteran 
was so thoroughly versed in these mat- 
ters that he knew every legal, as well as 
every military phase of the proposition. 







Of a kindly disposition, yet he never 
failed to do his whole duty as a soldier. 
General Schofield served in President 
Johnson's cabinet as secretary of war, 
where he succeeded General Grant, but 

in spite of this fact he was a close 
friend of Grant and of General Sherman. 
Perhaps one of the most important mis- 
sions of his long and eventful career was 





the one that determined the freedom of 
Mexico. He was sent to France on this 
mission, and in forcible yet diplomatic 
manner gave Emperor Napoleon III the 
information which led to the withdrawal 
of French troops from Mexico. It is 
said that few diplomatic missions were 
ever so adroitly and quietly yet effect- 
ively accomplished; it was at this time 
that the momentous question which in- 
volved the Monroe doctrine, as well as 
the fate of the republic to the south of 
us, was settled. I can recall at various 
times noticing General Schofield's keen 
interest in the welfare and progress of 
Mexico. He always felt proud of 
the fact that he was associated, in a 
way, with the history of that republic. 

I MET recently Uncle Joe Cannon, 

speaker of the house. He was wear- 
ing a steel-gray suit, a genial smile and 
a pink carnation in his coat. I was 
asked for information concerning certain 
Lincolnesque stories. " Take carte 
blanche, and put in any darned story you 
want, so long as there is a point to it 
and it is entirely proper," he said. N 

At this time he was anticipating the 
reception he was going to give to the 
Gridiron Club, and was as eager about 
it as a boy in his early teens might be 
over a day's holiday or a "s'prise party." 

"We are going to have them all 
there," he said "plutocrats, peasants, 
preachers, plumbers, pot-boilers, politi- 
cians and a few publishers," and he 
looked expressively at me. This sen- 
tence was a slight strain on Uncle Joe's 
powers of alliteration, but he was quite 
equal to it. 

There is a joke going the rounds of 
Washington. Recently there was a pile 
of counterfeit bills on the floor of the 
house, placed there by someone who 
wished to play a practical joke. Uncle 
Joe took them up, remarking: 

"Some plutocrat has been trying to 
bribe the representative body of the 


One bystander asked the speaker if he 
really thought that congress was a repre- 
sentative body under the rules. But, 
although there may be a certain amount 




of chafing under responsibility and the 
Reed rules, and an occasional murmur 
from "insurgents," yet everybody knows 
that if there ever was a square, lovable 


man in the government, it is Speaker 
Cannon. He is always the same kindly, 
popular, democratic man that he has 
been since the beginning of his con. 
gressional career. Ever watchful for the 
public interests, with a keen eye on the 
expense account, fighting against appro- 
priations, and yet keeping in close touch 
with the needs and demands of the hour, 
he has made a name for himself as 
speaker of the house of 'representatives, 
such as few men will be accorded when 
history is written. 

After all, it is not so much his long 
and unswerving service that has en- 
deared him to the nation, as his demo- 
cratic tastes and unflinching devotion to 
the plain people of America. He is 
known and loved not only in his own 
district but by the whole country. 

As he took his hat from the mantel, 
preparing to leave the president's office, 
he did not forget his usual genial glance 
around, which included a farewell to 
everyone present, before he waltzed out 
of the room and away. 


IT is interesting to observe the develop- 
ment of the strength of various senators 
and congressmen as occasion may arise 
to draw out their powers. No one who 
has been in Washington any length of 
time during the past few months will fail 
to agree in the opinion that there are 
three senators who are especially notice- 
able in this respect, being possessed of 
that subtle power which 's felt rather 
than seen in debate or on special occa- 
sions, but not observed during the regu- 
lar course of events. One of these men 
is Senator Bailey, who is quietly but 
effectively going to the front as a party 
leader. He has a fearless and thorough 
way of handling problems, and the main- 
tenance of his buoyancy has thrown out 
in sharp relief certain prominent traits 
that contrast with the character of 
the men around him. He is cer- 
tainly a representative of whom the 
Lone Star State may be proud. 



The next developing man is Senator 
Knox of Pennsylvania. He pursues a 
subject along direct lines, plowing deep. 
A great many of his friends urged him 
to take a more active part in proceedings 
and debates during his first session, but 
he responded that he considered himself 
as being merely in the preparatory stage, 
rather than upon the platform. Now it 
is seen that the former member of the 
cabinet has at his command a wide scope 
of information that is not available to 
the senator who has never been in the 
cabinet knowledge which does much to 
determine the power and standing of a 
senator. In fact, Senator Knox has be- 
come one of those men who do things 
without any apparent effort. He gives 
the impression of getting his tasks done 
quietly by a sort of "workless work," 
while other people are wearing them- 
selves to a thread. 

The third of the trio is Senator W. 
Murray Crane of Massachusetts, who in 
his serene way has a power of con- 

centration and consequently an effec- 
tiveness that is making him one of 
the potential members of the senate. He 
has a wide grasp of situations and policies 
and can discern subtle points which 
lead him quickly to logical results and 
conclusions in a way that can not be 
learned in books, nor taught, but is in- 
herent in a man. A quiet, keen, 
genial observer, he has seldom had a 
plan go awry, and yet it would be im- 
possible to define just how he manages 
always to come out right. 

IT was a busy month in the dead-letter 
office. I was told by the fourth assis- 
tant postmaster-general that during the 
past year they had disposed of over 
eleven million letters, and in these letters 
were found more than $56,000. Of this, 
amount $40,000 was returned to the 
owners and the balance is still in the 
treasury awaiting redemption.- It is said 
that, for the first time in fifty years, the 
work in the dead-letter office is at last 
caught up. When Postmaster-General 




Cortelyou reorganized the department 
there were over a half-million letters to 
be attended to, but the adoption of 
modern business methods soon reduced 
the mass of accumulated work that had 
been piling up for years past. 

These "dead" letters are all preserved, 
and would furnish volumes of the his- 
tory of humanity at large. It must not 
be supposed that all of these epistles are 
from ignorant people. There are thou- 
sands that indicate the dire consequences 
of a slip of the pen, and the department 
urges continuously the use of a printed 
return-address envelope, which would 
secure the sender against possibility of 
loss of his letter should it not be de- 

While in Washington I heard a story 
from a friend, of a relative of his who 
had come to Washington in search of a 
letter that had gone astray. He was 
successful in finding it in the dead-letter 
office. He returned home a wiser and 
a happier man, rejoicing over his re- 
claimed letter, which contained a thou- 



sand dollars that he had intended to for- 
ward to his prospective wife. It seems 
that in the excitement of addressing his 
beloved he wrote some undecipherable 
address, and after he had mailed the 
letter it occurred to him that he had 
made a mistake. 

It is simply amazing when one con- 
siders the millions and millions of letters 
and the vast amount of mail pass- 
ing through the postoffice department, 
how small a portion of it goes astray; 
and this lost percentage will constantly 
lessen as, with the new system inaugu- 
rated in the postal department, it is be- 
coming more and more easy to trace 
mail matter with unerring accuracy. 

IN the corridor of the house I met Rep- 
resentative John Sharp Williams on his 
way to the minority room. He was evi- 
dently in a reflective mood, but seemed 
to be particularly pleased about some- 
thing that had happened on the floor 



photographer found him recently he was 
engrossed in study of this great question, 
but paused long enough to look over his 
spectacles and send a kindly greeting to 

our readers. 


THE hearing of the committee on inter- 
oceanic canals drags wearily on. 
Senator Morgan occupies a seat near the 
end of the table. His lips are firmly set 
and his chin nestles down in his expan- 
sive collar as he listens, or looks up to 
continue his sharp questioning. I 
dropped in on rather a quiet day when 
expert Burr was on the stand. Profes- 
sor Burr has the distinction of drawing 
thirteen distinct and separate salaries as 
an expert; but he is not superstitious. 


and his gray eyes twinkled as he 
chuckled to himself. 

These are not strenuously partisan 
days; as has been remarked, it is diffi- 
cult to discern party lines, even on look- 
ing carefully over both sides of the 
house. The old-time party labels seem 
to have been lost in the shuffle, and, as 
one member remarked : 

"This feature presages for 1908 one 
of the most peculiar presidential cam- 
paigns that has ever been fought." 

The chief difficulty will be to find the 
entrenchments of a few years ago, in 
order to define the battleground. 

and he does not disguise the fact, but 
is rather proud of it, that the railroad 
rate bill was passed over to his tender 
mercies. When the National Magazine 


The walls of the committee-room are 
covered with maps and the table is strewn 
with papers. Senators Kittredge and 
Sanders, and Millard, the chairman, lis- 




tened attentively to the recital of Profes- 
sor Burr's opinions as to the capacity of 
the locks in the canal. Coming out of 
this room, an "old-timer" remarked: 

"If we had a man like Senator Hanna, 
this work would get pushed along 
quicker; when he was chairman of the 
committee this was his pet project." 






Time brings its swiftest changes to 
Washington. It seems as though no 
other place can reveal such sudden tran- 
sitions from obscurity to power and from 
power back again to obscurity. Every 
day brings its own change on the dial of 

public opinion, a timepiece whose record 
no one can adequately analzye or ex- 
plain. If a sentiment is running over 
the country in favor of this or that, it is 
beyond the power of the average 
observer to explain whence it came or to 


analyze it by any ordinary rules of logic, 
but nevertheless public opinion is always 
there and is a force which must be reck- 
oned with, though one section will get 
worked up over a question on which 
another section is quite indifferent. One 
part of the country will be aroused to the 
point of distraction over the rate prob- 
lem, while somewhere else it will be 
phases of the tariff which claim public 


attention. Others are interested only 
in irrigation. Every section empha. 
sizes its own local needs. There is 
one important thing to be considered 
in national legislation the happy 
blending of all these heterogenous 
wants and opinionsin to a harmoni- 
ous whole a difficulty which has 
proved a puzzle to all students 
and observers of other governments. 




Photograph by Valleto & Co., City of Mexico 





Photograph by Schlattman, City of Mexico Photograph by Schlattman, City of Mexico 


By General Bernardo Reyes 


Dear Sir : such an able exponent; and I take 

You have asked me for an expression pleasure in complying briefly with youi 

of personal opinion relative to the great request, inasmuch as the American 

nation of which you are a citizen, and people have always excited my sincere 

of whose ideas and aspirations your admiration, 

publication, The National Magazine, is In 1890, when writing "An Outline of 




Photograph by Valleto & Co., City ot Mexico 

the Progress of Humanity," I made the 
following statement with reference to the 
beneficent transformation of America in 

the eighteenth century, due largely to 
English migration which was directed 
toward the north of the continent: 





"The political evolution, brought about 
by historical conditions, was develop- 
ing in Europe to such an extent that the 
English Puritans were forced by perse- 
cution to flee to America. These 
pioneers of civilization, armed as they 
were with all the elements of human 
progress, arrived in a savage country 

teeming with richness, and, dedicating 
to it the activity and energy of their race, 
founded a powerful nation, where but 
yesterday a settlement of tents existed : 
a nation whose doctrines were imported 
from across the sea, but untrammeled by 
antiquated systems, which are ever a 
hindrance to new ideas. Upon these 



elements and principles was founded the 
great North American republic, where 
liberty and equality, predicated upon 
Christianity, have been definitely sanc- 
tioned by law, and where work, the 
blesssing of man, causes treasures to 
spring forth by the touch of its magic 

These lines synthesized my opinion 
respecting the marvelous development of 
the United States of America, and I 
should add that illustrious statesmen, 
emanating from popular will, have made 
the nation grander every day. At the 
front of this people we see today Presi- 
dent Roosevelt, a man who combines the 
genius and spirit of a race which has 
multiplied its strength by the interming- 
ling of the choicest races of the world, 
and who ever seeks to elevate their ideals 
and to amplify their field of action in all 
lines of human progress and achievement. 

In his literary works, and in his lumi- 
nous writings outlining the future of the 

nation, President Roosevelt boldly points 
out the obstacles that must be overcome. 
He attacks sterility in marriage, which 
he aptly terms "race suicide"; the unfor- 
tunate ease with which the family tie 
maybe dissolved; corruption in public 
affairs, and selfishness in every form, 
especially where it affects the interests 
of the country at large, to which he is 
so fervently devoted. 

The great statesmen of America, and 
the soldiers, who have distinguished 
themselves in battle and shed their 
blood for the nation, are more highly 
esteemed by this fearless leader than the 
moneyed kings, the powerful plutocrats 
of wealth, and the men who have formed 
combinations Ox capital for the control of 
all forms of industrial activity. 

Such a nation, with these antecedents, 
composed of an imposing aggregation of 
vigorous and manly citizens, and with 

Photograph by Clark, City of Mexico 



Photograph by Valleto & Co., City of Mexico 




Photograph by Sohlattman, City of Mexico 

leaders of the type of their present presi- 
dent, is destined to fulfill, and I believe 
will fulfill, the noblest and most beauti- 
ful of the missions of civilization, in the 
critical epoch of history through which 
the present generations of earth are pass- 
ing; recognizing the principles and the 
free exercise of democracy, while main- 
taining tranquility and order, and serv- 
ing as an example of material and intel- 
lectual development; in multiplying, 
through intercourse, the material wealth 
and the wholesome ideas of the world; 
in compelling respect of its rights in 
order that its evolution may advance 
triumphant, and, at the same time, in 
respecting in a manner correspond- 
ing to its grandeur and which its 
honor demands, the rights of the rest 
of the civilized nations of the earth. 





Photograph by Schlattman, City of Mexico 

A truly great mission of progress and 
justice, in which posterity is vitally in- 
terested ! 

These, Mr. Chappie, are my senti- 
ments with respect to the United States 
of America. Faithfully yours, 

Monterey, Mexico, 
February 23, 1906. 

Mr. Joe Mitchell Chappie, 
Editor of The National Magazine, 
Boston, Massachusetts. 


By Charles Warren Stoddard 

Author of "South Sea Idyls," "Islands of Tranquil Delight," etc. 


THE Italian shepherds, watching their 
flocks by night, and looking like a 
cross between a mythological faun and 
a bit of chimney bric-a-brac, will tell you 
in their mellifluous tongue that the Milky 
Way is the road to Rome. There is a 
saying in that delectable land that all 
roads lead to the Eternal City, and I 
have often been inclined to accept this 
statement literally. In the days of my 
youth, or ever the grasshopper had be- 
come a burden, the more I strove to 
escape the waters of Treve the surer I 
was to find myself within hearing of the 
gurgle of that highly decorative fountain. 
I had sworn once in the bitterness of my 
homesick heart that I would leave Rome 
forever; that nothing under high heaven 
could ever again tempt me within its 
walls. I had persistently refused to 
drink at that fountain, because if one 
drinks thereof one is under the spell; 
and if one casts into that wide marble 
basin his copper soldo one is lost forever 
and, willy-nilly, he must back to Rome 
again. Friends had assured me on their 
word of honor that the mere fracture of 
an arm was nothing; and so it was little 
or nothing in comparison with the frac- 
ture of two arms and a couple of legs 
for example. There was no need to call 
my attention to the thousand and one 
beguilements of the Rome of the early 
seventies; it was still mossy and musty 
and full of little mysteries. But I 
had turned from it in weariness and 
sworn never again to shed the light 
of my countenance within its gates, 
or cause my face to shine upon it. 

We were taking a last stroll together, 
a few of us of the aesthetic circle; it 
was one of those warm nights when no 
breath of air is stirring and there is 
nothing whatever to do but wait for a 
change in the weather. Alfredo and 
Romeo were my companions and it was 
suggested that we refresh ourselves with 
a glass of dolce. When the sweetened 
draft was swallowed, Alfredo asked of 
the keeper of the booth one of the 
many pretty little tents that are scattered 
about the streets during the Roman Sum- 
mer "Of what water is this drink com- 
pounded?" "Bella Treve, Signore!" 
was the reply, with a majestical wave 
of the hand worthy of a river-god. I 
was fairly caught. There was nothing 
left for me now but to cast my coin into 
the fountain and say farewell, only to 
return again after many days. Kismet! 

On my return, there happened what I 
am about to tell you. It all comes back 
to me vividly enough because I have 
just been turning the pages of a once 
popular novel that is now, perhaps, 
almost forgotten. The book is called 
"The One Fair Woman." I smile as 
I recall some of the original incidents 
upon which the Poet of the Sierras 
founded this eccentric bit of autobiog- 
raphy. My copy is not the rather vul- 
gar American edition in one fat volume, 
but three fair, womanly volumes with 
beautiful type and rose-tinted paper and 
dainty covers, bearing a well-known Lon- 
don imprint on its title page. I wonder 
if you have ever seen the book and have 
read it, and if you remember the chap- 


ters they are saturated with the Roman 
sirocco that refer to the so-called "Pink 
Countess?" Well, here is a little inci- 
dent that is not recorded in that valued 

It was in the afternoon of one of my 
lonesome days abroad. One can be 
very lonely in Rome if he tries hard 
enough. I had strolled to the Pincio 
because there was music there, an obe- 
lisk and a palm tree. To tell the whole 
truth, I sought consolation and I caught 
a cold. I was there, on the breezy 
heights where once bloomed the famed 
gardens of Lucullus; where Messalina 
gave those brilliant and boisterous gar- 
den parties that were the occasion of so 
much scandal. If the fair and frail 
Messalina could look in upon the tame 
flirtations that are now the only crimes 
worth mentioning enacted there, she 
might regret that even these feeble imi- 
tations of her pleasure grounds survive 
her shame. 

The grave obelisk, erected by Hadrian 
in commemoration of the melancholy 
fate of Antinous, has a sad sister in 
the palm tree that was born of a proud 
race but has grown peevish in the frigid 
and forbidding Italian Winter. Picture 
to yourself this heartbroken palm tree, 
chapped by the keen winds that swoop 
down upon it from the snow-crowned 
Sabine hills; bandaged and bolstered 
up a captive queen exposed to the ad- 
miration or indifference of the populace 
and dying by slow inches. Must I con- 
fess, after the above elaborate period, 
that the palm is now dead and buried? 
So I am informed by one who has many 
a time mourned with me at the foot of 
that royal martyr. 

My case that day was pitiable until 
one of Joaquin's friends ran against me. 
The Poet had made him over to me with 
a compliment. He is very generous in 
this respect. We fell together at the 
start and never jarred after that; he had 
the heart of a giant, the soul of a woman, 
and seldom bored me with the assump- 

tion of any interest in the arts. This 
amiable man was lord in the palace of 
the Pink Countess. He was a neutral- 
tinted Count, who lived only to set forth 
the peculiar pinkness of his Countess. 
There, are few of us but have some mis- 
sion in life; let us approve those who 
accept theirs without a murmur. 

The Count approached me and, see- 
ing me distraught, led me gently to the 
gate of the Villa Medici, where he rang 
for admittance. We entered a broad 
avenue hedged with box and flanked by 
two rows of antique statues; the statues 
were dismembered, but one pardons any- 
thing in the antique. The keeper of 
the grounds admitted us to another and 
more secluded retreat; it was the ver- 
dant crown of the hill. We threaded 
cloisters of black ilex trees, wherein the 
sun ventures not; there were marble 
seats at intervals, green with moss and 
mold. Higher yet we climbed, and at 
last reached a mound feathered with 
long grass, on the pinnacle of which a 
graceful minaret lifted its fairy columns 
above the dense foliage of the grove. 

The undulated line of the horizon 
marked the summits of the sacred hills. 
Monte Mario with its comb of pines; 
St. Peter's, like a huge bubble float- 
ing above a thousand tilting roofs; 
and farther on the Palatine and the 
Quirinal, with their palaces and tem- 
ples and basilicas; the Pantheon, the 
Capitol, and many a stately column with 
its crowning statue held high aloft, all 
swam in a golden haze that had grown 
warm in the slanting sunlight, a vision 
that was the more lovely in that it was 
brief and changeful. That is what we 
saw from the uttermost parts of Nero's 
Garden, with two huge locks shut fast 
between us and the outer world. 

For a moment Rome was nothing to 
me; I was above it and beyond it. I 
had set loose my spirit and breathed the 
air of a fresher and more congenial 
world; yet in the same breath she was 
all in all to me, this Roman world; With- 



out her supreme presence what would 
the hour have been other than a repeti- 
tion of the hours that come into every 
life through the sunshine when the day 
is fair? 

Ten thousand bells swung to and fro 
in the purpling dusk. Did ever the sun 
set to such music in any other land, I 
wonder? Those bells seemed to be 
ringing in new years forever and ever 
and aye; they were cheery, jubilant 
bells, that made melodious the very air; 
it quivered and throbbed as they reeled 
in their twilight towers, and, standing 
upon the hilltop in the Boscbetto, for the 
first time in my life, perhaps, the truth 
of the old tradition that church bells put 
to flight the devil and all his angels 
flashed upon me. Surely, in such a 
burst of heavenly harmony, no unclean 
soul could pause and listen without con- 
trition in his heart of hearts. 

The Count and I turned silently in the 
gloaming and hastened out of the villa, 
for fever, like a deadly perfume, exhales 
from the twilight shadows of a Roman 
garden. But this is not what I started 
to say, and we will have no more of it. 
We returned rapidly into the darkening 
town and made our way as speedily as 
possible to the palace of the Count in 
the Street of the Guardian Angel. 

Entering the great court of the palace, 
we learned that the Countess was still 
driving. This, however, was by no 
means surprising, for the fatal hour of 
dusk is the most delicious in all the four- 
and-twenty that revolve about Rome. 
A broad marble staircase connected the 
court with the primo-piano of the palace. 
Gradually, as the estate declined in 
value, as the fortune of its possessor 
began to fail, the once princely proprie- 
tor crept toward the roof with his family 
and retainers, and now the several floors 
between him and the pavement were 
occupied by strangers who were chiefly 

The Count led me through suites of 
apartments sumptuously furnished. Each 

chamber was larger than the other; the 
walls were literally covered with clouded 
paintings, such as impress one with the 
idea that the old masters could never 
have painted anything really fresh and 
brilliant in color. Full-length, life-size 
portraits of a brace of cardinals, resplen- 
dant in canonicals, adorned the grand 
salon. The glare of gilded and gor- 
geously upholstered furniture of antique 
pattern, the confusion of glittering bric- 
a-brac, the soft glow of a multitude of 
waxen tapers that transformed the chan- 
deliers of Venetian crystal into fountains 
of light all betrayed the luxurious taste 
of the hostess, and were but the suitable 
environment of one who to fortune and 
to fame was known as The Pink Count- 
ess. A carriage rolled into the court 
below; servants stole noiselessly to aid 
their mistress in alighting and ascending 
the stately stairway. A shrill, treble 
voice rang through the outer rooms and 
then a diminutive child, elfish, impish, 
looking like a girl in boy's clothing, or 
a boy who should have been a girl, 
sprang into the salon and embraced the 
Count in a paroxysm of delight. This 
was little "Sunshine," sole scion of the 
house and heir to all its pinkness. A 
mass of fluffy blonde hair fell over his 
shoulders and below his waist; large 
blue eyes lighted a face that was deli- 
cately chiseled and colorless as Carara 
marble. Buchanan Reed, the poet-artist, 
once painted this child as if floating in 
space and called him "The Evening 
Star." He was a star that never set 
without a disturbance, and it took two 
able-bodied lackeys to keep him, in his 
revolutions, within his private sphere. 

The Pink Countess entered on the 
arm of the poet-friend. They had been 
driving together as was their custom of 
an afternoon. What a picture! Pink! 
Pink! all Pink! from the roses in the 
blonde hair to the tips of the daintiest 
of slippers; pink stockings; pink trim- 
mings on a white, gauzy something that 
only half obscured an undercurrent of 



the deepest pink that ran all through 
her. Pink lips, pink cheeks, pink ears, 
and gloves of the pinkest pink imagin- 
able. It was, in short, too good I 
mean too pink to be true. 

The poet was ashen and sober. He 
seemed to have covered himself, as with 
a garment, with the silence of the 
somber Campagna, from whence they 
had just returned. A broad-brimmed 
sombrero shaded his melancholy eyes 
from the roseate glow of the salon; his 
Byronic cloak was still draped about 
him; his amber locks fell in ringlets 
upon his shoulders. He was booted to 
the knees; his small and well-shaped 
feet tapped a pricless Persian rug noise- 
lessly but impatiently. It seemed as if 
something were impending and some- 
thing was, and had been for some time. 
It was dinner. "Where is the man who 
can live without dining?" O," Lucille," 
thou idol of our youth, with feet of clay 
that crumble as the years increase and 
multiply. "Where is the man who can 
live without dining," be he Poet, Pork- 
packer, or Politician? 

Having dined, wined and gotten rid 
of little "Sunshine," with his corn-silk 
hair, his afterglow suffused us to our 
dismay we adjourned to the Poets' 
Corner and did the languid, Oriental 
pose until long after midnight. 

This Poets' Corner was a kind of 
boudoir, and I am at a loss to know just 
how it happened to be in that part of 
the palace, unless it chanced to fit in 
there and nowhere else in the building; 
it was about the shape of an egg-shell 
cut in half between the two ends of the 
egg, and, would you believe it? it was 
pink from carpet to ceiling; pinker 
flowers than nature ever painted made 
a bower of the dome; the fireplace was 
pink to the very embers that glowed on 
a spotless hearth, satin draperies of sea- 
shell pink veiled the walls and covered 
the couches and cushions, and all these 
were redolent of the spice of the carna- 
tion. There we had tea at all hours 

pink tea, with a monumental samovar 
more or less pinkified, and mulled wine 
in pink glasses, and Turkish coffee in 
pink cups; and such talk and such deep, 
refreshing intervals of silence as the gods 
provide for those alone who are capable 
of appreciating them! 

Do we not all remember how, on one 
stormy night, we reclined upon our 
couches and listened to the wind and 
the rain while each of us imagined that 
the other had been lulled to sleep by 
the elements, and not for worlds would 
we have disturbed them. The fire 
burned lower and lower; the air grew 
chilly; yet no one moved or spoke it 
was is if we were all under a spell. 
Then the Poet, who was, as usual, clad 
in his long cloak, rose stealthily and 
crept toward the hearth. He looked 
into the embers, breathed upon them, 
smiled, and stealing to a box that re- 
sembled a cottage piano framed in old 
rose, silently took from it the balsamic 
kindling. Over the gray coals, in a bed 
of ashes of roses, he built him a baby 
wigwam; then, crouching at some dis- 
tance from it, blew a breath a blast 
worthy of Boreas the flames burst 
through the peak of his tepee, the pink 
room blushed all over and we were saved. 
What followed? Polite and appreciative 
applause? Not so. We were all as 
much asleep as ever; we held our peace; 
but from under our eyelids we could see 
the Poet as he crouched before the 
camp-fire; and we heard him forgive 
me, I cannot resist saying it we heard 
him give a hollow grunt of satisfaction 
as, perhaps, he recalled the nights in 
the lonely forests of the Sierras when his 
only companion was the fire he had 
kindled in the good greenwood. Then 
he tiptoed back to his couch of tiger 
skins it had been fashioned for him 
alone, and we dreamed again. It was 
a souvenir of the forest and of the great 
plains, my dear, such as one gets not 
every night in Rome. 

Well as I was about to remark when I 



interrupted myself with a smile at some- 
thing else that had just flitted through 
my brain can you not see how the plot 
thickened and the people talked? The 
foreign colonies in the European capitals 
are hot-beds of gossip, but I venture to 
say that there are no gossips more ven- 
omous or meaner than those of Rome. 
The Pink Countess and the Poet drove 
daily and were seen of all who had eyes 
to see. It mattered not to them; they 
were dreamers and they let the world go 
by as if it were not. The Philistines 
and the Pharisees might pass on the 
other side and they, the while, be quite 
unconscious of the fact. Affinities, when 
they are absorbed in one another, seem 
to imagine that they are invisible to the 
naked eye and it is well for the repose 
of their souls that it is as it is. They 
drove in the highways and the byways, 
a spectacle for gods and men, while they 
were wrapped in sweet oblivion. 

The Count and I drove together 
reverently and religiously, seeing all the 
sights that have endeared the Eternal 
City to the heart of the globe-trotter. 
His was a gentle and appreciative spirit 
and our little pilgrimages were a per- 
petual pleasure. With "Sunshine" 
perched upon the box-seat, we also 
were not unobserved by the idle and the 
curious. "Sunshine," with his custard- 
colored mane waving in the wind, was 
the object of interest; he was dressed in 
violet velvet of the deepest dye, and it 
deepened the depth of those blue eyes 
of his, so that they, too, were violet in 
tint; and all the while he was feeding 
on candied violets, that the harmonious 
whole might know no discord feeding 
daintily on candied violets, as if he 
were a page to some Watteau lady, with 
a slim Italian grayhound for his play- 
mate, and all the background of his deli- 
cate youth banked with roses. He 
was now on his good behavior 
the eyes of the Roman world being 
upon him and he self-conscious to 
a degree, like all young children. 

It seems there was a friend of the 
family who frequented the palace and 
was the secret adviser of the Count. 
This friend was Mephistophelian in 
temperament and delighted in intrigue. 
He bore the distinguished name of a 
cardinal and an admiral and may be 
classified as a Gentleman With a Past. 
Sometimes he suddenly appeared in the 
palace, from behind the folds of the bro- 
caded portieres; sometimes he vanished 
as suddenly and no trace of him could 
be found not even the echo of a 
retreating footfall. The question occa- 
sionally arose, were there sliding panels 
in the palace, or trap-doors, or secret 
stairways hidden between the walls? 

It was this family friend who deftly 
kindled within the gentle heart of the 
Count a spark of jealousy. He had not 
even known how to spell it until with 
the shrugging shoulder, the furtive eye 
and the insinuating leer of the family 
friend the Count grew restive and sus- 
picious. It was a part he played but 
poorly. Nothing could have been far- 
ther from his nature; but a family friend 
is too often the worm-at-the-core, and 
more's the pity. 

At the Cafe Greco I began to miss 
my friend the Poet; we often break- 
fasted together in the continental fash- 
ion merely breaking our fast and re-, 
serving our appetite for the midday 
meal. Many inquired as to his where- 
abouts; I could not enlighten them. 
Once, indeed, he came to my chambers 
in the Little Street of the Little Tower, 
where Hilda of "The Marble Faun" was 
wont to trim her lamp of the Madonna, 
hanging without the wall of the Tower, 
and feed her flock of doves. Irene, my 
handsome padrona, who, with her maid- 
ens, did the finest laundering of lingerie 
in all Rome, told me that the Brigand- 
she always called him that had called 
for me on horseback and with such a 
saddlel "It had plates of silver on it 
so large," said Irene, and she held a 
saucer between the fingers and thumbs 



of her two hands and gloated over it. 

Rumors were rife. There were gossips 
even in the Cafe Greco, and the male 
gossip is a formidable rival to his glib- 
tongued sister. I listened but said noth- 
ing. I could not stop my ears. Since 
the Count had become peevish, I had 
ceased visiting the palace. A family 
affair, after all, is something to steer 
clear of; no intruder is welcome, even 
though his motives be above reproach. 

With some anxiety I looked for the 
Poet in his private haunts and found 
him not. How forlorn they all seemed 
to me then! The place was becoming 
a burden to me. Why should I tarry 
longer in a deserted city so it seemed 
to me now when there was so much to 
be seen elsewhere? I resolved to go 
northward, since the heat was increas- 
ing; not to Florence, which is too Eng- 
lish, but to Venice, where one may hide 
within the hollow of a gondola and re- 
main anonymous while drifting lazily 
from point to point of interest. 

My mind made up, I thought to pay 
a last visit to the Cafe Greco and quaff 
a beaker to the memory of the past. It 
was one of those moonlight nights when 
everyone is in the street save the lame, 
the halt and the blind and, alas! the 
bed-ridden. The Greco was deserted; I 
went into our favorite corner and or- 
dered a flask of Chianti, with sweet 
wafers. In his novel, "The One Fair 
Woman," the Poet has. introduced me 
among the lay-figures who fill in the 
background of the story. There I am 
made to look upon the wine when it is 
vermilion in the vessel and murmur at 
appropriate intervals "I will reform 
tomorrow!" Perhaps so, good Poet, 
perhaps, perhaps! While I was moon- 
ing over the blood of the grape, some- 
one entered and seated himself by me. 
Whom should it be but the one I had 
been seeking in vain. There was a swift 
recital under the breath and we felt quite 
melodramatic in the solitude of the cafe. 
What he had to tell was this: The 

Count, who had once been the soul of 
generous and amiable hospitality, grew 
snappish. He was little and soft-voiced 
and round. The change in his attitude 
toward his friend made him seem like 
a pet spaniel that has been spoiled and 
is feeling far from well. For a time his 
ill manner was passed unnoticed. The 
sirocco often effects one that way. Day 
after day he grew worse, and finally his 
treatment of his guest was little short of 
insulting. There were low-voiced con- 
sultations in the boudoir, during which 
the Pink Countess, now paler than pink, 
begged of the Poet as a friend and pro- 
tector not to abandon her to the tender 
mercies of the Count that were growing 
less and less tender day by day. The 
family friend had ceased to be a mere 
skeleton in the closet and had become 
an incarnate fiend to put it rather 
strongly. He plied the naturally ami- 
able Count with wine, or potions more 
potent, and would usher him into the 
presence of the Countess and the Poet 
and leave him sputtering unpleasantly to 
the dismay of both. Evidently affairs 
were approaching a crisis. 

One evening, returning late from a 
drive, the household was found in com- 
motion. The Count and the family 
friend, heated by cordials, were pranc- 
ing like war-horses; one might have 
looked for the smoke issuing from their 
nostrils and have just missed it. It took 
but a few moments to bring on a revolu- 
tion and a call to arms. The family 
friend, being portly but not in good 
form, thrust the Count into the field of 
battle and proposed to stand by him to 
the death. He supported the Count 
upon the right flank, but the latter fought 
blindly and was as often in the rear as 
to the front. (It must have been funny 
had it not been so absurd.) 

It is evident that poets know a thing 
or two beside verse-making Indian 
fighting, for example, and the "biff" 
in the solar plexus. The engagement 
was brief and decisive. The Countess, 



an unwilling witness, fainted like a rose 
in pain. A retinue of servants ran 
shrieking from ha.ll to hall. Great 
mirrors were shattered by flying missiles 
the bric-a-brac was circulating wildly. 
He left two upon the bloody field when 
he took his departure, he, the conqueror, 
the captain-general of his soul, and not 
a scar to grieve him. I fear the Count 
and the family friend were bad shots; it 
was they who were shelling the camp. 
The Poet's only weapons were God- 
given, and he knew well the use of them 
in an extremity. How we laughed over 
it all, there in the little inner room of 
the Cafe Greco! It was all so sudden 
and so silly. "I shall of course leave 
town," said he. "For her sake it is 
better that I do not again cross the track 
of these warriors." We were to say 
goodbye that very night over a fresh 
flagon of Chianti. I whispered in his 
ear, "I will reform tomorrow!" I knew 
not whither he was going. I didn't ask. 
If he had cared to tell me he would 
have told me without the asking. 

Two or three days later I chanced 
upon the Count. He had been seeking 
me in my favorite resorts, for he did not 
know where I was lodging. He was furi- 
ous with rage and indignation. "Where 
is the Poet?" he demanded of me 
fiercely. I could not believe my eyes 
or ears to find him in such a fury. Of 
course I could not enlighten him, though 
I must confess he looked incredulous. 
Then, when I inquired after the health 
of the Countess, he replied half viciously: 
"She has disappeared with Sunshine, a 
maid and a valet." And whither? He 
knew not. She had left word that she 
could no longer remain in Rome, on 
account of the intolerable domestic con- 
ditions; that he was to remain until he 
had settled everything and given up the 
keys of the palace. Then he could join 
her in Paris, and in future try to live 
up to his prerogatives. He must not 
forget that he was born a gentleman, 
even if he was a Count. This did not 

cheer him or comfort and console him. 
Vengeance was his; he would pursue the 
Poet to the antipodes, up hill and down 
dale, from sea to sea, and beyond the 
uttermost seas and there annihilate 
him. I could not repress a smile and 
yet there was a bit of a tear in it. And 
to think that this vendetta was worn by 
one who was in reality as gentle as a 
sucking dove. 

While the Count was still nursing his 
wrath, I silently stole away to Venice. 
It is odd how many homes one has in 
Europe one who has ever visited 
there. Rome, Albano, Venice, Naples, 
Capri these are my Italian homes. 
Even the gondoliers recognized me 
when I alighted at the station at 
Venice. Giovanni claimed me for his 
own, and I entered his gondola to swim 
with him the whole glorious length of 
the Grand Canal. 

The Sea City was ablaze with glory. 
It was the annual Fete of the Gondo- 
liers. Huge barges more graceful in 
outline than the swan, more beautifully 
decorated than that in which the Doge 
of the days of eld was wont to go forth 
to wed his bride, the wondrous Adriatic, 
passed in stately procession to the lagoon 
where the pageant culminated in all its 
splendor. They were propelled by a 
phalanx of oarsmen picturesquely clad 
in mediaeval costume, who rowed rhyth- 
mically to the music of voices and man- 
dolins. Some of them carried gauzy 
sails as brilliant as butterfly wings. 
The canals were crowded with gon- 
dolas laden with sight-seers, and yet it 
was not long before my attention had 
been attracted by the occupants of one 
that was floating near me. A lady par- 
tially concealed under the canopy of her 
gondola was trailing a gloved hand in 
the water; halt the forearm was gloved 
and the glove was pink. I wondered 
who was with her who beside the little 
creature in violet velvet with the flaxen 
hair. I caught only the glimpse of a 
sombrero and beneath it the amber ring- 


lets curling upon the shoulders of one 
draped in a manner more or less By- 

The Venetian sea betrays no secrets. 
If one's wife enters^ the felse of her 
gondola at any hour of the day or night 
she is as secure from identification as if 
fortified with masque and domino. The 
pink glove was a bait one might have 
nibbled at had one been greedy, but I 
contented myself with following after it 
at my leisure until the end of the after- 
noon, when a storm cloud swept over 
us and the stars of the twilight were 

I saw them no more after that; pink, 
violet and amber were colors that faded 
out of my life. Not that I forgot them 
for a moment; they, like many another 
memory, were indelible, but I thought to 
go back to Rome and round out an ex- 
perience that had, in a certain sense, 
been nipped in the bud, and I immedi- 
ately returned. 

The Count had put his desolated 
house in order and repaired to Paris. 
The gossips of Rome, having wearied 
one another with elaborately imaginative 
details, were in chase of more recent 
victims. I was silent as a sphinx and 
almost as stony-hearted having a con- 
science all my own until I received a 

happy letter from the Count himself, 
who had hastened to assure rne that all 
was well; that he had been too hasty, too 
suspicious, and had written a curt letter 
to the family friend assuring him that he 
had been utterly mistaken in his sur- 
mises. That the Pink Countess was well 
and pinker than ever, if that were pos- 
sible; so also the violet child with his 
golden aureole still guiltless of the bar- 
ber's ruthless shears. That they were 
one and all at the daintiest of Parisian 
hostelries, and that nothing could add 
to their united happiness save my poor 
presence. Would I join them for a little 
visit and do all the bewildering fetes 
with them before they took wing again 
and went elsewhere? 

Alas, no! There was still honey in 
the honeycomb, close at hand, though 
the Italian bees are not so very busy. 
I could at least sit in the Cafe Greco 
and over my Chianti dream of the poet 
friend I missed so sorely. I had some- 
times listened if, perchance, I might 
hear his returning footfall for poets 
love variety and may weary of even 
the prettiest of pinks; but no! I hear 
only a still, small voice that whispered 
never so softly in my listening ear: 
"The places that once knew him 
shall know him no more forever!" 


By Eugene C. Dolson 


CHE sings in many a strain, 
^ But ever truest and best 
Of her own life's loss and gain; 
Of love's divine unrest. 

For our deepest feelings move 
To words untouched by art; 

And the sweetest songs of love 

Come straight from love's own heart. 

o n 



By Ethel Armes 

THE newspaper artist, hitherto no 
more nor less than reporter's hench- 
man, is at length coming into his own. 
He begins to rank with the first-class 
illustrators. His standing, both profes- 
sional and social; his training; methods; 

ideals; and, generally speaking, the re- 
sults he gets, are practically one and the 

He is no longer a citizen of the nether 
world of art, answering no more to that 
epithet the scorn of it "neither a 



soldier nor a sailor, but a marine 1" 
The whole situation has, in fact, turned 
turtle. He has a claim, and latterly it 
is becoming recognized. 

The American public is getting from 
him today, citing the leading daily 
papers of the country, a service often 
singularly excellent, and, in a sense, re- 
markable. Remarkable, because so ac- 
curate and faithful a representation of 
daily life as is gotten by these men, of 
all the vast series of human interest 
stories that breed on unceasingly from 
night to night and day to day, is no 
light achievement. Today, in the ma- 
jority of the great newspapers, the pic- 
ture goes side by side with the written 

It takes a certain athletic makeup in 
the workman, this business, having to 
do so with the quick. The manner of 
the training, the ways and means of the 
getting of his materials, and the artist's 
methods of handling the various big 
stories, conferences, conventions, court- 
room scenes, strikes, murders, funerals, 
weddings, balls, banquets, Sunday fea- 
ture work, all this makes interesting 

In nine cases out of ten the successful 
newspaper artist of today, this is not 
including the cartoonist or caricaturist 
is a product of the modern art school. 
He enters, usually at quite an early age, 
the elementary class, works gradually 
through the intermediate and antique to 
the life, serving, as he goes, apprentice- 
ship to the streets. But it is a four to 
six years sweat under a skylight in Olym- 
pian company, ghosts if you will! 
before he can so much as touch a banana 
cart and a "dago!" Yes, out of plaster 
cast, Phoebus Apollo and the rest, and 
all that is writ on Parthenon walls, are 
evolved the first working principles. To 
be steeped in them, then, mentally speak- 
ing, wrung out dry and put to fresh sun- 
light. In other words, to learn it and 
forget it. That is to say, it is packed 
into the subconsciousness. Methods of 

work and handling,- even in a touch-and 
go illustration, must be academic. 

The newspaper artist, equally with the 
painter, looks for and must get sense of 
line, proportion, balance, composition, 
in a word, technique, as the law declares 
technique. His black and white hand- 
ling is no go-as-you-please run, swiftly 
as it is achieved on a daily paper, but 
it is something that has been, if at all 
worth while, carefully trained for and is 
consistently managed. The ability to 
secure atmosphere, humor, pathos, indi- 
viduality and suggestion, is, natually, 
matter of temperament, personality, a 
a certain power of subjective observation 
and vivid dramatic and color sense in- 
nate. There is usually somewhat of this 
in the newspaper artist after his several 
years with the Olympian company and 
his certainly curious contact with the in- 
timacies of life. Yes, the catechism of 
the ancients is the first prop. 

That this pale light of the antique 
should determine visions and handling 
of, say, a common, ordinary, up-to-date 
American court-room scene, may look 
a far cry for the fact, but there it is. 

For example, here are some illustra- 
tions by the Boston Herald's star artist, 
Haydon Jones, taken as typical of the 
every-day work done by the modern 
American newspaper artist according to 
present day methods and the prescribed 

This first sketch, the jury picture of 
the Tucker murder trial, exemplifies in 
perhaps every degree what has just been 
said regarding the artist's aims. Cer- 
tainly it is a wielding together of spirit 
and technique. It is true to the life and 
at the same time academic in construc- 
tion and handling. It is rather a fair 
piece of work taken all in all. Concern- 
ing it and the manner of getting it, Mr. 
Jones said in a recent interview: 

"It took all day, about to get that; 
these court-room scenes have to be done 
on the spot. No faking herel You see, 
you have to wait for the second when 



' 7 h e 


those fellows forget everything get 
tense, drawn, excited then get to 
work, you understand 1 Then you make 
your picture straight from the living 
models. Now, see that fellow there 
with the big hand? He's a wheelwright. 
And that one standing, leaning 'way 
over, he's a blacksmith. There's a 
plumber back of him two plumbers, 
there's a grocer, and a lawyer, and that 
fellow at the end is a minister. To each 
one his own treatment his own charac- 
teristics. What you have to do first of 
all is be right there, you understand, 
and stay there. Study your men. As I 
said, draw on the spot. 

"Some, maybe, think you are making 
one grand splurge, and 'rubber-neck' 
around you know how they do. What's 
the odds I Let them rubber-neck ! I say 
to myself, my business is to make a good 
picture for my paper, make the best 
that's in me to make, finish it and then 
hot-foot to the office! Just like you do 
with a story. Your mind's bent on 
what you have to get, you're for it and 
nothing else, your head's full of the 
idea, the relations, the atmosphere the 

characters, the color just the same with 
an artist, you see how I mean? And 
you want to seize the dramatic moment. 
For instance, in this picture you are 
looking at, that is Professor Wood, ex- 
pert Wood of Harvard, explaining to the 
jurymen about those knife-thrusts in the 
woman's clothing, and every word he 
lets go is hot shot, see! That's the 
critical moment. I watched and waited 
all day for just that point. I wanted my 
men in that pose. I studied each one 
till I could get him when he took the 
position most natural to him under that 
excitement. Ah! There's nothing like 
the living models!" 

It occasionally happens in newspaper 
work that the living models are pretty 
hard to get! The artist, like the re- 
porter, must exercise ingenuity. And 
he must be able to catch a likeness, a 
character, in a lightning flash. And he 
must be always ready for rush work. At 
the time of the tragedy at Buffalo many 
a feat remarkable in the line of artists' 
and reporters' work was done and passed 
unchronicled. Mr. Jones, whose picture 
of Czolgosz was at the time a notable 


thing, remarked concerning his experi- 

"Just as soon as we got word that 
McKinley was shot, off I was sent to 
Buffalo to get Czolgosz, among a few 
other things, and Czolgosz couldn't be 
gotten. No artist or photographer, it 
seemed, could get into that jail for love 

the first prisoner, the murdered girl's 
lover, was a picture that for realism, for 
tragedy, the sense of woe unutterable, 
was not surpassed. He had perhaps a 
two-minute glimpse of the unfortunate 
young man as he was hustled past be- 

Attorney -General Parker and the Expert 

or money at first. Well, I hung on 
around there and at last I set up the 
fellows and persuaded them to handcuff 
me and take me in the jail as a prisoner 
and march me past Czolgosz so I could 
get a good look at him. And the good 
look had to serve in that instance for 
a rush picture." 

In the recent horror of the suit-case 
murder in Boston, Mr. Jones' portrait of 

tween two policemen, and achieved not 
only a likeness but the very inmost vein 
of pathos. 

The Illustration here of the Mary 
Rogers case, "The Plea for the 
Woman," is a picture out of life, and 
also used as an example of particularly 
rapid work. 

"I had a time limit there," observed 
Mr. Jones; "a train to catch back to 



town to get my picture in on time, and 
the thing had to be done as near instan- 
taneously as I could do it. I blocked 
it in on the spot, got my main issue, the 
two judges and the general character of 
the whole, and then worked it up and 
finished it on the train coming back. 
Of course that's another thing the news- 
paper artist has to learn to do work on 
a fast-moving train." 
Mr. Jones does most of his work with 

those lithograph men! They're gen- 
iuses! And they are artists!" 

Another element somewhat favorable 
to the newspaper artist is the sun of 
encouragement that invariably shines on 
his work. Public men, and citizens in 
general, observe closely and follow with 
rather unique interest the work of news- 
paper artists, of course, more or less as 
it bears upon them and their associates. 

Mr. Jones' work is known from Maine 

"Sam" McCall, friend of the oppressed (railways) 

a plain lead pencil, the Blaisdell pencil 
and a square of Steinbach. He usually 
starts and finishes his drawings right on 
the spot and seldom waits to round them 
up at the office. This, it may be said, 
is rather exceptional, and few without 
excellent training can do it. 

'One thing nowadays that's a big 
advantage to the artist is that his work, 
if care is taken, need not be all 'bunged 
up' in the process of reproduction. If 
his work is good, it tells! Some of 

to California. At all the big conferences 
and conventions, at every important 
trial, upon all occasions of municipal 
and national interest, there the Boston 
Herald sends Haydon Jones. 

At the opening exercises of the Inter- 
national Peace Conference, in Boston, 
Mr. Jones drew, among his numberless 
portrait sketches, a picture of our late 
Secretary of State John Hay, so excel- 
lent as to call forth the high commenda- 
tion of Secretary Hay and a special re- 



"The Plea for the Woman:' 

quest- to purchase the original. Mr. little remembrance gift, a silver match- 
Jones presented his drawing to Mr. box inscribed "To Haydon Jones from 

Hay and re- 
ceived not 
only a letter of 
profuse thanks 
but an auto- 
graph copy of 
one of the rar- 
est editions of 
his poems to- 
gether with a 


"At tbe Information bureau 

John Hay." 
eral Parker was 
so struck with 
Mr. Jones' 
clever work 
during the 
Tucker trial, 



District - Attorney William Trovers Jerome of New York City (otherwise 
known as Bombastes Furioso) defying the world after dinner 

with one sketch depicting the verbal 
fencing bout with the hand-writing ex- 
pert E. B. Hay, that he wrote : 

"I cannot too highly commend your 
remarkable skill in this most difficult 
line of portraiture. You have perfectly 
caught the humor, the atmosphere and 
the incident." 

Although Mr. Jones' newspaper draw- 
ings have made his reputation thus with 
the public in general, it is his book- 
plate designs that have won for him 
a notable standing among artists in that 
special field. His own book-plate, de- 
picting his favorite poet, Franco is Villon, 
is one of the best, denoting with char- 
acteristic touch and much suggestion the 
bowed figure, lean and spare and in- 
tense, that is so deep a source of modern 
French art. That one for Mr. Arthur 
Brentano, "At the old book-stall" vis- 
ion of a Grub street day; the illuminated 
script of the Middle Ages, the patient 

monk at work in monastic cell, belong- 
ing to Mr. George Leander French; 
those inscribed to Dr. Charles Cameron, 
Mr. Henry Havemeyer and Mr. Edward 
Lauterbach are all most excellent in de- 
sign, scholarly and suggestive in char- 
acter and perfectly artistic and complete 
in treatment. These, of course, much 
more carefully wrought than the daily 
news illustrations, represent consider- 
ably more time and thought. 

Haydon Jones began when he could 
just about hold a pencil, and his father, 
a machinist by trade, put no stones in 
his son's way, though he cut no clearing 
to speak of. 

"He would have liked to have been 
an artist himself, remarked the son, 
"and he wanted me to be one." Born 
thirty -four years ago in Cleveland, Ohio,- 
where his father had settled some years 
before, Haydon Jones grew up fairly in 
the School of Design there. "Then 


after I finished there," stated Mr. Jones, 
"I lit out for New York with a diplo- 
ma, a diploma," he repeated, for that 
seemed to strike his sense of humor. 
And he did not have much else beyond 
that diploma, either. He entered the 
League Life Class and lived a couple 
of years on half-rations and stuck to his 
brushes and pencils. Then, finally, the 

"Can you draw? Well, draw those 
newsboys on the World steps over there, 

And he drew those newsboys on the 
World steps over there. 

"Ah, that was the truck I was 
used to doing all the kids, the life 
of the streets, the horses, the crowds, 
that's what I liked to do." 

outlook a- 
head being 
bounded by 
and stretch- 
er limits, 
and rather 
e n d 1 e s s 
prospect of 
an empty 
stomach in 
the bargain, 
H a y d o n 
Jones went 
to sea. He 

enlisted as deck hand in the Atlantic 
Coast Line service; roustabout from 
New York to Savannah and Savannah 
to New York and back again, over and 
many times over. Off hours in New 
York he searched the advertising col- 
umns. At last there was an advertisement 
for an artist, one who could "draw 
quick." Haydon Jones responded. He 
went to the office of the Mail & Express. 


John Hay addressing the International Peace 
Conference at Tremont Temple, Boston 

So he land- 
ed his first 
job as a 
artist. So do 
they all, the 
fellows with 
the seven- 
league boots 
who want to 
make some- 
th ing of 
After but a 

brief stay in New York, Haydon Jones 
accepted a better offer on the Chicago 
Times. Then he went West, clear to 
California, and he made his mark in 
'Frisco. However, mirage of New York 
banked his horizon once again and he 
came over the States to the East once 
more. The early Spring of '98 found 
him in the office of the New York 
World. And the war breeze blowing! 



"Ah! I was crazy 1 If they wouldn't 
send me to the front, I told 'em, I'd 
enlist, for I was bound to go. They 
talked over it a while and didn't come 
to a head, and I was preparing to go 
on my own hook, and one night I 
remember it was raining pitchforks 
I went down in my old brown ulster 
to the office and ' Jones, are you 
ready? Take the midnight train, then!' 

"Ready? You bet you! Off for south 
for Key West. I didn't stop for so 


Eliot of Harvard" 

much as a collar; went just as I was 
in my old brown ulster. I was off to 
the front! Every night the World's boat 
went out from Key West, and I had the 
time of my life till " Mr. Jones paused, 
"till I got captured by the Spaniards!" 
That capture, by the way, was a long 
story told all over the world at the 
time, in scare-head type! "Haydon 
Jones, First American Prisoner of 
War!" The simple facts: Jones and 
another World man accompanied an 


armed expedition into Cuba, and going 
ashore near Havana to reconnoiter they 
were captured, and after numerous hair- 


breadth adventures were confined in the 
Cabanas fortress, where they stayed 
until their exchange was brought about. 

"It is great now, looking back, but 
then I didn't expect to come out of it 
alive!" and Mr. Jones related how, one 
thrilling night on a plantation, he drew 
the portraits of the Spanish soldiers till 

"One after another they filed in, they 

and their swords and their lanterns. 
'No tomorrow tonight I' they all cried, 
for they wanted the sketches then, and 
I thought I was drawing for my life I" 
He dove down into the color of 
it! He took out his pictures of that 
time: fumes of Cuban tobacco and smell 
of Cuban brandy; clatter of boots and 
swords; look of Spanish soldier faces 
under Spanish soldier hats, one word 
adventure; that's what makes the 

American newspaper artist, or any ar- 
tist I We were in the front room of his 
house at Jamaica Plain, No. 4 Brewer 





street, a turn or two from the big pond 
and full in the stretch of elms and 
maples. It was half -study, half-parlor; 
armor set in a spot or two ; some rifles, 
Spanish guns, old flintlocks, Jap and 
Persian swords, all got in the artist's 
wanderings. Two three-pounders from 
the Maria Theresa [Spanish cruiser sunk 
off Santiago] stood on the mantel-piece, 
a milk-white little mantel strangely pale 
for its warrior leaning! 
Daniel Vierge he and his Paris and 

his white Orient dreamed under the 
gunsl There, the key, I perceived. 
As necessary as bread and wine, a 
master illustrator to have and hold in 

Then, too, Francois Villon was at table 
with us. We had just been listening 
to his stout and lusty imprecations 
upon "those vintners who put water 
in our wine." But now we put off 
the mediaeval poet fellow a space 
and took up talk of the moderns. 

iv co 

i U o 


By Frank Putnam 

THERE is a quality in the general mind 
Ignored by men who like the tiger prey 
Upon their weaker fellows ; rob and slay, 
And in the hunt their dearest pleasure find. 

A quality sweet as Mercy, pure as Youth, 

Sterner than Death to those who dare its force; 
Moving as sure as planets in their course, 

Changeless and tireless as eternal Truth : 

The quality of Justice, which not I 

Nor you nor any other can evade ; 

Though long its solemn reckoning be delayed, 
Each mortal must make answer ere he die. 

We are judged by the full measure of our days; 
Not by a late repentance and the giving 
Of lavish gifts, nor by abstemious living 

Can we turn detestation into praise. 


I often wonder whether they ever pause 

For silent self-inspection, these our great, 
Pimping upon a prostituted State, 

Makers and breakers of convenient laws. 

Have they forgotten or did they never know 
How like Nemesis on the murderer's trail 
The quality of Justice cannot fail 

Early or late to touch both high and low? 

However that be, forgotten or never known, 

They are here and we must chain them or be chained: 
Freedom is ours while it is hourly gained : 

Only in battle can they be overthrown. 

Unlike the proud, paternal ancient lord, 

Drunken with gold and arrogantly blind 

They cast off kinship with their common kind, 

Dreaded and hated, envied and abhorred. 


By Elmore Elliott Peake 


MARCIA THORN sat on the front 
steps of the cottage, elbows on her 
knees, cheeks in her palms, brown hair 
lying in a heavy coil on the white curve 
of her neck. Her two children were 
asleep inside. A clump of honeysuckle, 
silvered by the light of the moon, stood 
at the edge of the walk, as motionless as 
a sentinel in the still air. The breath 
of hyacinths came up from the warm 
earth. Outside the picket fence the 
village street was as deserted as a coun- 
try lane, though the court-house clock 
had only just struck eight. Afar off 
somewhere a piano was playing; and as 
the vague, attenuated notes, touched by 
the magic of night and distance, floated 
into the young woman's consciousness 
and became a part of her thoughts, her 
lashes glistened with tears. 

It was three years now since Shiloh, 
where her husband was reported to have 
fallen. Andersonville and Libby prisons 
had opened their filthy maws and vom- 
ited forth what was left of the scarecrows 
in blue ghastly, gangrenous caricatures 
of the men they once had been. A 
month and more had passed since Lee's 
surrender. But it was only today, when 
Company B, of the ii3th Illinois, had 
come home, that Marcia Thorn relin- 
quished the tenacious belief that she was 
still a wife that her hubsand had not 
died on the field, but had been carried 
off to a Southern prison. 

She and the rest of the village and the 
village band had gone to the railroad 
station to welcome the boys home; just 
as. nearly four years before, they had 

gone to bid them goodbye. Sixty ro- 
bust, spick-and-span young fellows had 
then gone away. Twenty-odd sallow, 
haggard, tattered men, old before their 
time, had come back today. They 
stepped off the train; and, after receiv- 
ing such kisses, tears and caresses as no 
military discipline could restrain, quietly 
fell into line for their last march to the 
court-house, where a speech of welcome 
was to be made. But it was not the 
happy occasion that people had antici- 
pated. Too many of the boys were miss- 
ing; and as those that were left marched 
unassumingly along, with the noiseless, 
swift step which had carried them from 
Cairo to Washington, by way of a great 
arc through the heart of the Confederacy, 
the sight produced a tightness across 
Marcia' s breast and made her throat 

After the speech she had talked with 
each of the members of the company 
about Rodney. They told her all they 
knew, which was not very much, and 
only what many of them had written to 
her months or even years before 
namely, that Rodney had fallen on the 
first day of carnage at Shiloh, and that, 
though his body could not be found after 
the battle, he must certainly have per- 
ished. It was just what everyone else 
friends, neighbors, and even the sec- 
retary of war had told her; and, as she 
turned away from the last member of 
the company, the spark of hope which 
had glowed fitfully and feebly in her 
breast, month after month for three 
years, was finally snuffed out. 



"Poor, little, fatherless babes!" she 
had sobbed softly, as she laid chubby 
little Ethel, whom Rodney had never 
seen, beside her curly-headed brother. 

As she sat on the steps, brooding over 
the past, it seemed but the other night 
that the court-house bell had rung out 
a solemn alarm which froze the blood 
in her veins. It was the day of Lin- 
coln's call for men. Chains of steel 
could not have kept Rodney Thorn from 
that mass meeting, but he had promised 
Marcia not to enlist yet, agreeing with 
her that the unmarried men should go 
first. At that time southern Illinois, 
with her large population of Southern 
immigrants, had not yet found herself 
on the question of the war though she 
soon magnificently atoned for her early 
lukewarmness and the appeal of the 
Reverend Hosea Hodge for volunteers 
to save the Union was received by the 
audience with frigid silence. Then 
Rodney Thorn sprang to his feet and 
gave in his name. He explained it all 
to Marcia afterward, with tears of shame 
and rage in his eyes; and, though her 
heart sank at thought of his going to 
war, she called him her brave boy. 

He marched away. Months passed. 
The savings which he had left behind 
for his little family at first thought 
more than ample began to dwindle. 
Little Ethel was born, making a big 
hole in the bank account God bless 
herl Then came Shiloh horrible, 
heart-breaking Shiloh followed by the 
breathless scanning of death lists in 
every village and hamlet as the city 
papers percolated throughout the coun- 
try, and by the passing from neighbor 
to neighbor of every letter received from 
the front. A little later a few long, 
grewsome-looking boxes were received 
at the railroad station, and fortunate 
were those who thus got back their dead. 

Marcia marveled now that she had 
lived through those days, when she went 
about with a rigid face, deaf to the 
church bells on a Sunday morning, 

doubting God, sitting mute through 
sympathizing neighbors' visits or flee- 
ing to the garden to escape them, and 
doing her work as automatically as a 
machine. But, thank heaven, that evil 
spell had been removed. Though mourn- 
ing for Rodney no less than at first, she 
had soon awakened to her duty to her 
children and those about her, and 
though clinging, with an obstinacy that 
puzzled and even provoked her friends, 
to the belief that her husband was still 
living, she was prepared for any proof 
to the contrary. 

Today, therefore, the conviction that 
he was dead had come rather as a relief 
than as a shock. Yet her heart sank at 
the thought of facing the world alone, 
with her two babes. Rodney's savings 
had long since gone; the proceeds from 
the mortgage on her home were almost 
gone, and soon her home itself would 
be gone; for in spite of her best endea- 
vors at fancy-work, sewing and baking 
bread and cakes for sale, she had not 
been able to live and keep up the inter- 
est on the mortgage. 

The gate clicked and Sidney Went- 
worth came up the narrow, shell-bor- 
dered walk. She knew it was Sidney 
without looking up, for in the past three 
years and the last six months especially 
his step had become a familiar one. 
As cashier of the bank and Rodney 
Thorn's bosom friend, he had naturally 
become Marcia's adviser and business 
agent in her husband's absence. He 
had negotiated her mortgage at a very 
low rate of interest, she had since 
learned; he had written letters by the 
score to establish beyond question that 
Rodney was either dead or alive, and 
he had even made a trip to Washington 
for that purpose. 

He sat down on the step below 
the one occupied by Marcia, with the 
easy manner of an habitual visitor. 
She had greeted him with a quiet 
"Good evening, Sid," without chang- 
ing her graceful, relaxed posture. 



"I interviewed all the members of 
Company B today," said she after a 

"So did I," he answered. 

"And you believe' ' She paused for 
his answer. 

"I believe what I have believed for 
three years, Marcia. Rodney is dead. 
Can you still think otherwise?" 

She slowly shook her head. 

"No. I must believe it, too. My 
babes and I are alone. The little dears 
haven't even a grandparent." Her 
voice broke slightly. 

"Do you feel alone, Marcia, after all 
your friends have done for you? after 
all / have done?" asked Went worth, 

"You know what I mean, Sidney," 
she answered pensively. 

For a moment he studied her sharp, 
beautiful profile, and the rich, warm 
coils of hair half submerging her ear. 
The hand on her cheek, with its plain 
band ring, had never looked so white, 
so small and delicate before, so insuffi- 
cient to parry the blows of the world. 

"Marcia," he began, in a voice not 
quite steady, "you need not be alone 
in even the sense you meant. Haven't 
you guessed my secret? Haven't you 
guessed that I love you? I do love you, 
dear, and have loved you for a long, 
long time perhaps even before I had 
right to do so. But surely I have the 
right now, and the right to tell you of 
it, and to ask you to become my wife." 

He saw with a sense of relief that her 
expression scarcely changed that she 
was not shocked. Instead, she reached 
out and broke off a sprig of syringa, in 
apparently a matter-of-fact way. Yet 
her fingers shook. 

"It would be unwomanly in me to 
affect surprise, Sidney," said she in a 
low voice. "I have foreseen this moment 
I hope it was not an immodest as- 
sumption. I have tried to think how I 
should meet it. But I couldn't decide. 
I can't decide now. I I value your 

love. I can't tell you how much. But 
I can never return it, Sidney. I love 
you as a dear, dear friend who has never 
faltered in my time of need. But as a 
wife I could not love you. All that I 
could ever give you would be the poor 
remnants of what I have lavished on 
another man your friend and my hus- 

"Those poor remnants, as you call 
them, are all that I ask," he returned. 
I would rather have them than the full, 
unbroken measure of any other woman's 

She gave him a quick, grateful glance 
through misty eyes, and allowed him to 
take her hand. 

"This is all so sacred and so dear to 
me, Sidney. But I cannot allow you to 
cheat yourself. The fingers you hold 
contain my wedding ring. If I had lost 
that ring any time these three years 
back, I believe I could have accepted 
the loss as a sign from heaven that the 
hand which placed it on my finger was 
in the grave if they gave him a grave." 
Her tears began to fall. "But I could 
never take that ring off; and as long as 
it's on Oh, Sidney, suppose I should 
marry you and he should return!" She 
shuddered and covered her eyes with her 

"I shouldn't want you ever to take 
that ring off, Marcia," he Answered. "I 
should prefer that you leave it on. But 
as to Rodney's returning, do you sup- 
pose that I am any more willing than 
yourself to take any chances on such 
a ghastly contingency? And to place it 
beyond human possibility, I should be 
willing to wait a year two years three 
years, before we married, if you saw fit. 
And three years are a long time to wait 
for one you love." 

"I know it well," said she, with a 
fluttering sigh. He knew that she al- 
luded to her three years' wait since 
Shiloh. "There is a sweet reasonable- 
ness about you, Sidney, that almost per- 
suades me," she continued, in a mellow 



voice. "It tempts me to try to make 
some return for all your kindness. But 
my gratitude is not what you want. 
What you want is my love; and, alas, 
I have no love to offer you. My heart 
is an empty altar whose sacrifice has 
been already burnt. Only ashes are 

"Then give me those ashes, Marcia," 
he entreated, again taking her hand. 
She smiled at him, tenderly, sorrowfully. 

"I can't, Sidney!" she protested. 

He was silent for a moment, doubtful 
about speaking what was in his mind. 
Then it came out. 

"Before you say you can't, Marcia, 
think of this: You have two children 
to feed and clothe and send to school. 
I don't doubt your ability to do it. But 
it would mean a ceaseless struggle for 
you. It would be a pitiful waste of 
energy, for you were made for lovelier 
and holier things than earning a liveli- 
hood. As my wife, relieved of this 
drudgery, think how much more you 
could do for your children, yourself and 
all about you." 

"You ask me to sell myself, Sidney 1" 
said she accusingly. 

"I do not. I should never try to buy 
you. You are not the kind that can be 
bought, and if you were I should not 
want you. I speak of these things only 
because they are facts which must be 
considered; and which, loving you as I 
do, I have often considered." 

Marcia slowly reduced to bits the twig 
between her fingers. The cheek toward 
Wentworth was flushed and in the pale 
light he could see that her eyes glist- 
ened. They were large, soulful, lustrous 
eyes, and the suitor's heart quickened 
when they turned full upon him, search- 
ingly, question ingly, appealingly. 

"Can a woman, for the sake of her 
babes, lawfully wed a man she does not 
love?" she asked. 
"She can if he is willing." 

Again she seemed to be trying to read 
his very soul. 

"You wouldn't tell me that unless you 
believed it?" 

"No not even to win you." 

She clapped her hands to her face 
again, so as to hide her eyes. 

"Oh, Sidney, I don't know whether 
I can ever think of Rodney's being 
dead! And tonight, talking thus with 
you, I feel somehow as if I were disloyal 
to him as if he would have waited for 
me longer than I have waited for him. 
But give me a week, Sidney, and I shall 
try to answer you. Don't come to see 
me for a week." 


She sat on the steps until his footfalls 
had died away, leaving the street silent 
and lifeless. Never before had his de- 
parture left her quite so lonely. He 
had given her hand such a firm, mascu- 
line, confident grasp in leaving! Yield- 
ing is such a sweetly perilous thing to 
a woman, and for a little while her fancy 
ran riot in a vision of golden dreams. 
Then Rodney's careless, laughing face 
flashed before her and a revulsion took 

"He went and Sidney stayed!" she 
murmured, solemnly. 

She entered the house. A lamp was 
burning in the bedroom; and, stationing 
herself at the foot of the smaller bed, 
like some exquisite statue of maternity, 
she soberly studied the rosy faces of her 
sleeping children. 

"He would be their father!" she mur- 
mured. "They would grow up remem- 
bering no other. And their real father, 
my darling Rodney " A sob choked 
her voice. 

On her dresser was a photograph of 
Rodney. Beside it was a musket-ball 
which had lodged in the butt of his gun 
at the battle of Belmont. He had sent 
it home as a souvenir, with some playful 
remark about lightning never striking 
twice in the same place, and affecting 
to regard his close call as a good omen. 
Not so with Marcia. It had been days 



before she could look at the ugly, bat- 
tered piece of lead without turning faint. 
It would have made such a ghastly hole 
in a white, tender breast like Rodney 'si 

During the trying days of indecision 
that followed, Rodney's eyes, looking 
at her from the dresser morning and 
night as she robed and disrobed, seemed 
to contain a mute appeal. Sometimes, 
so strong was this appeal, she would 
seize the picture and, covering it with 
tears and kisses, exclaim passionately: 
"No, darling, I will not marry him! 
You went and he stayed!" 

But the faces of the sleeping children 
at her back contained an appeal of 
another kind. Dire poverty was their 
lot unless she did marry. Already she 
had been forced to an economy in the 
matter of the little ones' clothing which 
made her cheeks burn with humiliation. 

One afternoon a tall, gaunt fellow in 
faded blue, whom Marcia recognized as 
a member of Company B, came up the 
cottage walk, passed around to the side 
door, like a delivery boy, and timidly 
rapped. He would not sit down, but 
stopped just inside the door, uneasily 
revolving his cap in his hand as he 

"I heerd, mem, after I seen you the 
other day, that you still had a suspicion 
that Rodney Mr. Thorn, I should say 
might yet be alive. So I thought that 
mebbe it was my duty to come around 
and tell you something that I didn't 
mention the other day not wishin* then 
to harrow up your feelin's. Rodney- 
Mr. Thorn was my left mate in the 
rank. We was chargin' a little clump 
of trees and bresh, where the Johnnies 
had been a-poppin' it to us like a nest 
of hornets. All of a suddint, Rodney 
goes down so quick that I thought he 
must have tripped on a vine. But he 
kind of twisted and turned as he fell, 
and lit on his back with his face up to 
the sun " 

He paused in distress at Marcia' s sud- 
den pallor. She hastily stepped to the 

sideboard and poured herself a glass of 
water with an unsteady hand. 

"Go on, please," she said, resolutely. 

"I seen he had a kind of surprised 
look on his face, like men have when 
they're hit suddint, you know. His eyes 
was dazed-like, too, and he didn't make 
no effort to git up. I didn't stop I 
couldn't, you know," he added, apolo- 
getically. "But as I passed on I heerd 
him say somethin' that sounded kind of 
like an oath. You know he used to 
swear-like a little in a kind of ami- 
able, winnin' way though I don't sup- 
pose he ever did around home," he has- 
tened to add. "I thought he said 
you'll excuse me, mem, for repeatin' 
it I thought he said, 'Gone, by God!' 
But I kept studyin' about it all day, 
when I had time, for his face kind of 
ha'nted me, and it didn't seem as though 
that was just what he said. We couldn't 
look up his body that night, because the 
Johnnies had driv us back a piece. But 
happened to hear one of the boys say 
that Rod sometimes used to call his 
wife 'Dot'. Then it flashed over me 
that what he said was 'Goodbye, Dot!' 
which was more natural-like, under the 

He paused with a delicacy which his 
uncouth exterior had given no hint of, 
when Marcia pressed her handkerchief 
to her eyes. Then he went on sympa- 
thetically, but with the firmness of one 
who has looked upon whole acres of 
human dead: 

"The next day it was a Monday, I 
ricollect we retook that patch of ground 
from the Johnnies and fit till dark. The 
next mornin' I got permission to look 
for Rod among the dead. But I couldn't 
find him, as I told you the other day. 
Of course he might have crawled over 
to some bushes that was near and ex- 
cuse me died there. But if he did, 
some of our boys buried him before I 
got there, or else the Johnnies buried 
him the day before. But the reason I 
think one or t'other thing happened, 



and that he was buried to say nothin' 
of your not hearin' from him since is 
because I seen his sperit that night. 
Yes, mem, his sperit," he repeated at 
her start. "It was standin' right at the 
flap of my tent, as plain as you be 
before me now. It was so plain that I 
thought at first it must be him. But 
when I jumped up he just smiled in that 
sweet way of his'n and melted away like 
mist. I believe, mem, he come to set 
my mind at rest about his bein' dead, 
and I hope it will your'n." 

In the morning Marcia wrote the fol- 
lowing to Sidney Wentworth: 

*'If you can believe, Sidney, what 
I have told you that I have as yet 
no love to offer you, but only ad- 
miration and esteem, together with 
the profoundest gratitude; if you 
are willing to take me on these 
terms, and become a father to my 
children, I am willing to marry you. 
I have asked God to show me the 
way, and I pray that I have read his 
answer aright. Our future happi- 
ness will depend on ourselves; and, 
believe me, if I did not think I saw 
a beautiful sun of Promise pushing 
above the horizon, this letter would 
be of a different tenor." 

She intended to mail the letter at 
once, so that Sidney could call that 
night. But, faltering before the irrevoc- 
able step, she put the mailing off until 
noon. At noon, she put it off till even- 
ing; then, after a final attack of irresolu- 
tion, she started for the postoffice with 
a fast-beating heart. She paused at the 
gate with maternal solicitude, for a final 
glance at the house, where she was leav- 
ing her sleeping babes alone for a few 


Half an hour earlier, perhaps, a 
shabby figure, but with a wild rose in 
the lapel of his coat, approached the 
village along one of its dusty highways. 
His trousers were torn to tatters at the 
bottom. His calico shirt was collarless. 
His right sleeve lacked four or five in- 

ches of covering the thin, brown wrist 
which protruded from it. His left sleeve 
was empty and doubled back and pinned 
to his shoulder. 

His face was sallow and wasted, and 
he looked sick. Yet the brim of his 
slouch hat was jauntily cocked up on 
one side, and there was a brightness in 
his eye and a sprightliness about his 
movements which belied these signs. 
He walked, in fact, with a swiftness 
such as no tramp, for whom he might 
have been mistaken, ever mustered. Yet 
nothing along the roadside seemed to 
escape him, although dusk was already 
falling and lamps being lighted; and 
when he reached the first straggling 
houses of the village, with their spacious 
yarns, gardens and barns, he occasion- 
ally paused for scrutiny. 

At the third house on the right side 
a girl was milking. He recognized the 
milkmaid and stood for an instant with 
his hand on the fence, tempted to hail 
her. He wanted to ask her a question. 
But the first word on the tip of his 
tongue "Marcia" brought a peculiar 
faintness over him and he passed on. 
If anything had happened, he could 
bear better to hear it later. 

Yet, in spite of his suspense, how 
sweet, how divinely sweet it was to be 
home again! His heart quickened with 
affection for the very trees; and when 
he reached an old elm on which he 
knew that his initials and a certain other 
person's, beginning with M, were carved, 
he threw his one arm about the trunk 
and pressed his cheek to the rough bark. 
Then, as if ashamed of this display, he 
glanced shyly about him to see if he had 
been observed, and moved on. 

Could it be only three and a half years 
that he had been gonel There was little 
or no change, to be sure, in the village 
street; but he had a strange, Rip Van 
Winkle-like feeling, as if decades might 
have slipped by since he last looked upon 
this dear, familiar scene. He began to 
wonder if the same people he used to 

1 62 


know still lived in these houses. Half 
alarmed at the thought, he paused in 
front of the Darrells' fine old home and 
strained his eyes for some reassuring 
sign. Yes! There was one of the girls 
she looked like Letty, only a little older 
dressed in white and lying in a ham- 
mock, reading by the fading light. She 
had been among the last to bid him 
goodbye at the station. How glad she 
would be to grasp his hand again, now 
that he was back from the war! But 
that must wait. 

He met several people, all of whom 
he knew. But they did not recognize 
him in the dusk and his shabby garb 
and sunken cheeks. So he did not 
speak. His heart thrilled at the sight 
of each, and his palm itched for a hand- 
shake. But all this, too, must wait. 
There was a more urgent matter ahead. 

As he approached the vicinity of his 
home, even before he could make out 
the shrubbery which hung over the 
fence, an unexpected weakness assailed 
him. Sinking down upon an opportune 
horseblock, he removed his hat from his 
matted, auburn hair and wiped the dew 
from his brow. Then he smiled bravely, 
through white lips, at this foolishness, 
as he called it. 

But how many, many times, while 
lying in the squalid prison at Mobile, 
had he dreamed of thus coming home 
along this very street, in just this way! 
And later, on the West Indian isle, 
where a Spanish merchantman had 
heartlessly abandoned him and a fellow 
stowaway with whom he had broken 
prison, how often, during those mad- 
dening months of helplessness, had he 
pledged his soul to the God, devil, angel 
or fiend who would vouchsafe him one 
more glimpse of that little, sacred, em- 
bowered cottage, and one more caress 
from the precious ones within! And 
now that home was at hand, just beyond 
the next two houses! And he, Rodney 
Thorn, with no devil's lien on his soul, 
was soon to see his wife and child and 

possibly another little one of whose ex- 
istence he had received only a hint. 

But was he? Perhaps Marcia had 
died of a broken heart. Perhaps little 
Robbie had died. Possibly they had 
starved. Or maybe, to satisfy her child's 
hunger, Marcia had sold the cottage and 
gone away to the city to make a living, 
and strangers were now gathered about 
his hearthstone. Maybe, as he had 
dreamed with cruel frequency, the house 
had burned down. Maybe the little 
front yard was choked with weeds and 
the garden had become an abandoned 

These torturing thoughts goaded him 
to his feet again. He was on the same 
side of the street as the cottage; but he 
crossed over in order that the revelation, 
whatever it should prove to be, might 
come more gradually. He could not 
bear a shock now. So, for fifty or sixty 
feet, still fighting his weakness off, he 
pulled himself along by the pickets. A 
passing citizen eyed him suspiciously 
and prudently kept the opposite side of 
the walk. For an instant the tottering 
man thought of appealing for help; but 
in the months gone by he had made too 
many such appeals in vain, and gritting 
his teeth he dragged himself another 
rod. Then, panting and gripping a 
picket with all his strength, he peered 
dimly across the street. 

There was the fence! if it was not 
a trick of his crazy brain. There was 
the bridal - wreath bush, white with 
bloom ! And there thank God ! was 
the house! And a lamp shining from 
his bedroom window! But whose lamp? 
And was it still his bedroom and hers? 
Once more the chill returned. 

But at that moment a figure in white 
appeared at the gate a figure whose 
beloved outlines not even the darkness 
of the night added to the darkness of 
his brain could obscure. He staggered 
across the street like a drunken man. 
At his approach Marcia shrank from the 
gate, and when the grotesque figure 



stopped directly opposite her, swaying 
and groping for some support, she gave 
a little cry of alarm. Then the drunken, 
one-armed tramp quietly sank to the 

Was it some familiar gesture which 
he unconsciously made as he went 
down? Or did some hearthstone angel 
whisper a hint of the truth in Marcia's 
ear? With blanched face she gently 
forced open the gate, which his pros- 
trate body had blocked, and slipped her 
form through. Stooping, still shrink- 
ingly and half fearfully, she pushed 
back the brim of the dusty old hat 
until the face beneath was exposed to 

She uttered a short, sharp scream, 
sprang to her feet, and glanced wildly 
up and down the street for help. Then, 
with a calm as sudden as her agitation 
had been, she lifted the fallen figure in 
her arms it was pathetically light and 
carried it into the house. 

She laid it on a couch, lit a lamp and 
flew for the brandy bottle. When she 
returned, Rodney's eyes were open and 
he was smiling at her, faintly and wanly, 
but still with a trace of his old tender 
roguishness. Unaided, he placed the 
bottle to his lips, took a swallow and 
then set the bottle on the floor. 

"Kiss mel" he whispered huskily. 

With a little wail of joy, which must 
certainly have reached to heaven, Marcia 
threw her arms about his neck and began 
to sob. For a long time neither spoke, 
while Rodney, slowly and with a strange, 
far-away look on his face, stroked her 

"This isn't a dream, is it, dear?" he 

"No, darling." 

"Heaven may be sweeter than this, 
Marsh," he murmured after a moment, 
"but I doubt it." 

She kissed him again. 

"Is Robbie alive and well?" he 
asked, after another pause. 

"Yes, and such a fine big boy that 

you won't know him!" she exclaimed 

"Is there another one? You wrote 
me at Pittsburgh Landing it was the 
last letter I got that you " He 
ceased, half in doubt. 

"Yes a little girl, and her name is 
Ethel," said she, smiling tenderly. Oh, 
what a beautiful, beautiful present I shall 
have for her in the morning! A father!" 
And she hugged him ecstatically. 

"I'm afraid she'll think you got him 
at a remnant counter," said he, ruefully, 
raising to a sitting posture. "Take me 
to them." 

It was not till then, in her flustrated 
condition, that Marcia noticed his miss- 
ing arm. Her face grew gray with 
horror; and with a stifled cry of pity 
the sweetest sound, Rodney thought, 
ever vouchsafed the ears of a man she 
passionately wound her arms about his 
neck and drew her body, a-quiver with 
love, tight against his breast. 

"Oh, my hero, my soldier boy!" 

Gently he led her to the bedroom. 
As they stood at the foot of the little 
bed, she clinging to his arm, the tears 
ran abundantly down his withered 

"I can't realize it all yet, Marsh," 
he said. "Don't blame me if I act 
strangely for a few days. It will take 
some time to make sure that it isn't 
only another dream. I won't try to tell 
you now what I have suffered how I 
have prayed for death how many times 
I have fainted from hunger how many 
thousand miles I have walked. It makes 
no difference now, after all," he added, 
with his cheery, brave smile. "It's 
past. Thank God, it's past." 

At that instant Marcia's letter to Sid- 
ney Wentworth slipped from her bosom 
to the floor. 

"Love letter?" asked Rodney, with 
gentle mischievousness. 

Marcia suddenly grew white as death. 

"Oh, husband, be merciful and forgive 
mel It is a love letter to Sidney Went- 



worth. I believed we all believed you 
dead. He has been so good and kind; 
the money from the mortgage is almost 
gone we were going to wait a year 
two years three years more for you to 
come back. And for the sake of the 
little ones believe me, darling, for 
them only I have promised to marry 

He looked at her dumbly. "Marry 
him!" he repeated softly, in a tone that 
stabbed her to the heart. 

"Yes. But, oh, read it read it!" 

she begged of him, in an agony of re- 
morse, placing the letter in his hand 
his poor, one, cold hand which she 
yearned, mother-like, to warm in the 
cosy depths of her breast, close to her 

He unfolded the sheet clumsily. As 
he read, his eyes grew tender. Then, 
letting the paper flutter to the floor, he 
drew Marcia close to his side again. 

"Poor, brave, little girl!" said he, 
kissing her agitated lips. "And poor, 
faithful Sid!" 


By May Elliott Hutson 


BOTH, Mothers of America, but reared the States apart, 
One with the Winter on her head, the Winter in her heart, 
One crowned with never-melting snows, a grave within her breast, 
But in that grave the dove of Peace had made its little nest. 
In soft, low tones they murmured on, of joys and sorrows past, 
And then with gentle hands they touched a tender theme at last. 
One wore a little tuft of gray gray with its soft, sad hue, 
The other carried on her breast a knot of Yankee blue. 

"Why wear this token next my heart?" The Northern mother smiled, 

And stroked the fragment on her breast as if it were a child. 

"In blue our Lord has clothed the skies, and robed the tropic seas; 

From azure fields our banner throws its spangles to the breeze. 

In blue the mountain drapes her head, while through the mists and dew 

Shines, like a baby's, from her breast the gentian's eye of blue. 

When, years agone, the simoon's breath smote all our fairest flowers, 

When earthquakes rent and tempests tore this God-made land of ours, 


When Maine and Massachusetts called, amongst the brave and true 
Who answered 'Here,' I gave them one who wore a coat of blue. 
When, gory-maned, the beast of War charged through Virginia's hills 
With dripping blood that stained the rocks and dyed the mountain rills; 
When, bellowing with rage and hate, he shook that bloody mane, 
And tore the ranks with cruel teeth upon Manassas' plain, 
They found amid the mangled heap of victims whom he slew 
A soldier, from whose boyish breast they cut this slip of blue." 

The Southern mother bowed her head, a prayer rose to the throne, 

For Christ, the Comforter, to seek this heart so like her own, 

Then lifted up her fair old face, bejewelled with a tear, 

And touched her bosom with a knot of gray that rested there. 

"In gray our Lord has dressed the mists, and wrapped the twilight sea, 

Gray are the ashes of the dead, gray is the hue for me. 

Like silent specters grayly swathed, behold the Southern moss. 

Gray was the face that heaven turned on Calvary and the Cross. 

It is the tint of human tears, the hue of parting day; 

If broken hearts are ever seen their color will be gray." 

A sob of memory arose, it shook the Southern breast, 

And lo! the timid dove of Peace was frightened from its nest. 

Slow dripped the sad and silent drops, and wet the gray knot through, 

While opposite a soft stream fell, and wet the knot of blue. 

When next that Southern mother spoke, the voice was not her own. 

The desolation of her heart was echoed in her tone. 

"When pealed from Sumter's battlements the War-God's awful voice, 

And men and States were called by Fate to make the final choice, 

I had but one a child he seemed my dead love's legacy, 

The only living, human thing that earth contained for me. 

I trampled on my selfish heart, I drove my tears away, 

And with my own hands buttoned on my darling's coat of gray. 

It matters not the agony, the love, the prayers, the pride, 

The awful throes that racked my heart, for later on it died. 

But when upon Virginia's hills they turned the gory clay, 

They brought me from a soldier's breast this little slip of gray.' ' 

With trembling, sympathetic hands, and voice that shook with tears, 

The Northern mother quickly spoke of forms that thronged the years, 

Of Jackson, Lee and all the host, whose glory and renown 

Like blazing jewels set in gray adorn the nation's crown. 

Of these she spoke then silently she brushed a tear away, 

And bending forward, pressed a kiss upon the knot of gray. 

The Southern mother raised her face, and slowly over all 

A soft light, as from white wings in their passage, seemed to fall. 

It rested in her eyes, despite the grave within her breast 

The little frightened dove of Peace had fluttered to its nest. 


By Kalvin Johnson 


IN the four years that he had occu- 
pied offices in the big trust company 
building this was Morrison's first visit 
to the place after business hours. It 
was about ten o'clock when he dropped 
off the car in front of the many-storied 
pile, which loomed silent and shadowy 
into the night. 

A paper left in his desk was necessary 
to the transaction of a business matter 
that was to call him out of town on an 
early train the next morning. The de- 
serted marble vestibule suggested a mau- 
soleum. Rousing the night elevator 
man, who sat dozing in his cage, Morri- 
son was quickly lifted to the twelfth 
story. On his way up he caught 
glimpses of janitors at work on the 
various floors and heard them whistling 
as they went about their duties. The 
squeaking of furniture, the metallic clat- 
ter of cuspidors and the occasional 
bang of a door resounded throughout 
the building. 

He had been to the theater, and at 
tardy recollection of the paper had cut 
the last act. The pockets of his even- 
ing clothes lacked the means of entrance 
to his office. A man carrying a pound 
or more of keys at the end of a chain 
came and unlocked a glass-panelled door 
bearing the sign, "S. Morrison, Attor- 
ney." A click of an electric button and 
the room, which formed the first of a 
suite, was illuminated. Lighting his 
way as he went, the attorney passed on 
into an interior apartment, where his 
private desk was located. 

Morrison was not in an especially good 

humor over the necessity of his errand. 
Lately he had begun to show an irri- 
tableness growing out of a certain dis- 
satisfaction with himself. He could not 
exactly define it, but he missed the old 
enthusiasm he used to feel in his work 
before sacrificing his general practice to 
that of a corporation lawyer. The latter 
often involved tactics which were not 
up to his earlier standards. The implied 
attitude of the several large interests 
that he served, of owning him, con- 
science and all, awakened a spirit of 
resentment, which could not be alto- 
gether soothed by the fact that he had 
trebled his income and was well on the 
way toward affluence. 

While Morrison was searching for the 
mislaid document one of the cleaning 
force, a robust-appearing fellow, came 
into the room, carrying a broom and 
a large empty basket. 

"I will be out of your way in a 
minute, janitor," said the attorney care- 
lessly, after a glance. 

The man, in the act of retreating, 
hesitated at the door and gazed in a 
half-amused, half-nervous way at the 
speaker. There was apparently nothing 
about the attorney to arouse such feel- 
ing. He was a keen but affable-looking 
person of forty-five years, of rather hand- 
some features, a little stout in figure and 
having an air of prosperity. Except that 
his opera hat sat rakishly on the back of 
his head, his general appearance was 
conventional enough. 

The fellow turned as if to go, then 
paused again, and with sudden resolu- 



tion exclaimed, "All right, Sammy!" 

Morrison was in the act of closing his 
desk. The roll-top slipped from his 
fingers and he turned upon the janitor 
as if struck. It had been years since he 
had heard that name. In the brief space 
of time required to reach the man, who 
stood doubtfully, leaning against the 
door-frame, the office and its luxurious 
appointments faded away. In their 
place was a quaint, sleepy old town, 
with a background of green hills. The 
picture aided him some as he peered 
into the somewhat embarrassed, smiling 

"Joe Stephens!" cried the attorney. 

"I didn't think you would recognize 
me so easily," was the response, given 
in a laughing but still restrained tone. 

There was nothing of the cad about 
Morrison. He fairly hugged the fellow, 
in spite of his workingman's dress. 
"Joe, I'm tickled to death to see you, 
but what are you doing here what in 
the name of goodness" Morrison stood 
off and pointed at the broom. 

"I suppose it's what you call trying to 
make an honest living." 

"Why, I thought you were in the West 
and doing well. The last I heard of you, 
you were in the manufacturing busi- 

"The bottom dropped out of it and I 
came back," said the man, with a slight 

"How long have you been working 

"About two months." 

"And never came in to see me?" 
There was genuine reproach in Morri- 
son's tone. 

"I didn't dream of it being you, until 
a week or two ago, when I learned it by 

"Why didn't you come then?" 

"I wanted to, the worst way, and yet 
I hated to," said Stephens, hesitat- 
ingly. "I sleep in daytime, and then it 
had been so long since we'd met, and 
you're so fine here, I didn't know 

just whether you'd "care that is " 

"You dirty dog, you!" 

"No, I didn't really believe that," 
Stephens hastened to add, "but when a 
fellow is down at the heel it makes him 
sensitive about hunting up old friends. 
Anyway, I felt that we would run into 
each other sometime natural-like, just as 
we have tonight. I couldn't have en- 
joyed anything better than this. Some 
afternoon, when you are not too busy, I 
want to come up and have a good talk 
with you." The two men had dropped 
into chairs. Stephens arose to his feet 

"Where are you going now?" asked 
the attorney. 

"I have a lot of work to do yet to- 

"See here, Joe Stephens!" exclaimed 
Morrison, giving the basket in front of 
him a kick, "the owners of this building 
are my clients. The superientendent is 
directly responsible to me. Technically, 
I'm the head janitor, and I want you to 
understand that you are fired, right now, 
so you might as well sit down again. I 
am going to fix you for something 

"Hold on, now, Sam!" said Stephens, 
resuming his seat, "I don't want you to 
feel that I'm expecting anything of that 
kind; not offhand, anyway. Wait a 

"The idea of cleaning my rooms," 
continued Morrison; "I'm ashamed to 
look you in the face. Why, your folks 
used to keep us in milk, after father 
died, and we were blamed glad to get it, 
too. Do you remember that cow of 
yours, old Baldy? My! but she used to 
give good milk!" 

"Yes, and we'd both go to the pasture 
after her in the evenings. She seemed 
almost as much your cow as she did 

"Sometimes your sister Elsie would 
cry to go along, and I would lead her 
by the hand, for I was always fond of 
her," said Morrison tenderly. "Ah, 
Joe! I've never forgotten. It was my 

1 68 


last year in college, you know, when she 
died. I tell you, it knocked the ambi- 
tion out of me for a while. I have a 
good wife, Joe; I love her; we are 
happy, but there is one feeling a man 
never experiences but once in a life- 

"You've been getting along fine, 
haven't you, Sam?" said Stephens, after 
a little pause. 

*' Better, I expect, than I deserve, Joe. 
It was a struggle for the first few years, 
but I have worked into a good practice 
and have been able to accumulate a 
little something." 

"I'm glad to hear it. You always 
were smart, and square, too. Anybody 
would know, just to see you, that you 
were prospering. You certainly look 
sporty in that rig," added Stephens, 
with a gleam in his eye, "When I 
spied you sitting there in the chair, so 
swell, I couldn't help saying 'Sammy,' 
for the life of me." 

"Don't guy me like that, Joel" pro- 
tested Morrison, chuckling. "You were 
thinking of how I used to look in those 
Sunday pants mother cut down for me 
out of brother Ike's. I used to want her 
to take a reef in them, but she was 
afraid of spoiling them for Charley, who 
was coming on and was stout, like 
Ike. Those pants always embarrassed 
me, and I just hurried up and grew out 
of them lengthways." Both men laughed 
until the tears stood in their eyes. 

"You're the same old Saml" cried 
Stephens, enthusiastically, his restraint 
entirely gone. 

"I haven't had such a good, old- 
fashioned laugh for I don't know when 
just like when we were boys, Joe. But 
to be serious, tell me about yourself. 
"You're married? No one I know? 
Three children! I've only got two. 
Living on the fifth floor of a flat build- 
ing? I own a little house up my way 
that is just spoiling for a good tenant. 
Country air and quiet surroundings. 
Tomorrow I'll be out of town, but 

Thursday I am going to have you and 
Mrs. Joe up to dinner, and we can talk 
it over then. Eh? I'll bet you four 
dollars you'll come or there will be 
trouble. Nonsense ! You will look good 
enough for me, whatever you wear. My 
wife will be just as glad to have you as 
I will; I've often talked to her about 
you. She's got sense, and any friends 
of mine are friends of hers." 

The attorney rattled on, in his impul- 
sive way, hardly allowing his companion 
opportunity for reply. "Now, about 
that business affair of yours! Give me 
the particulars; maybe I can be of ser- 
vice to you." 

"Well, it's quite a long story," said 
Stephens, thoughtfullly, "but I'll give 
you the general facts, as a matter of in- 
terest. I am much obliged to you, Sam, 
for your offer of help, but the matter is 
past mending. I suppose my going 
broke is a good deal my own fault, any- 
way. I contracted a bad habit after I 
went West." 

"It wasn't whiskey, was it, Joe?" in- 
terrupted Morrison. 

"No; that's something that never 
bothered me." 

"I was sure it couldn't be that with 
you," said the attorney, "but what put 
the idea into my head was that I heard 
that Dick Chalmers had taken to drink 
and was almost a wreck had run through 
with the money he got from his father's 
estate. I'll tell you who told me you 
remember Albert Fawcett, who used to 
run a shoe store on the corner of the 
square? I happened to meet him on the 
train not long ago. It seems that Dick 
is living in Denver, and Fawcett had 
been out there visiting his brother-in-law. 
I was awful sorry to hear such a thing 
about Dick. He was always such a 
steady, level-headed fellow. Next to 
you, there was not a boy in Mo wry 
to whom I was more attached. You 
know how we three used to run 
around together. I thought possibly 
you might have happened on to 



Dick while you were in the West." 
"Dick is a part of the story," said 
Stephens, quietly. "My failing was 
speculating. I had a pretty good start 
on a ranch, but traded it off for mining 
stock, not the wildcat kind, but some- 
thing that would have made me money 
if I hadn't let it go again. I was first 
into one thing and then another, some- 
times coming out ahead and sometimes 

"As part of a real-estate deal, I got 
hold of a little factory that had sus- 
pended operations for lack of capital. 
It was equipped for making a line of 
brass specialties. I had no idea what 
to do with it, except to trade it off 
again. One day while in Denver I hap- 
pened to run across Dick Chalmers. He 
was out there for his lungs and was feel- 
ing so much better that he had con- 
cluded to stay. I mentioned the factory 
to him, incidentally, and he got inter- 
ested at once. He was looking for a 
small investment and knew something 
about the manufacturing business. The 
plant was located about fifty miles from 
Denver and he went down with me to 
investigate the proposition. As a result 
we fixed up a partnership arrangement. 
"Dick is a hustler, and it wasn't long 
before we were selling our goods faster 
than we could make them. We kept 
putting in more machinery and increas- 
ing the size of the plant, until finally 
every dollar we both had in the world 
which wasn't an enormous sum was 
tied up in it. Things were beginning 
to come easy when some parties in the 
East here, who were forming a trust, 
wanted to buy us out. Their offer was 
liberal enough, $50,000 in cash, and I 
suppose we made a mistake in not ac- 
cepting it. Dick felt that the business 
had a big future, and as this was a free 
country, we didn't have to sell unless 
we wanted to. 

"Well, the trust went after us rough- 
shod. They kept spies on where we 
shipped our goods and took our cus- 

tomers away from us by cutting prices. 
The worst, though, was the way they 
persecuted us in the courts, claiming in- 
fringements of patents, getting out in- 
junctions and the like. What their law- 
yers didn't think of wasn't worthwhile. 
We stayed with them as long as we 
could, but they had too much money for 
us. We were both cleaned out. Dick 
went back to Denver, almost broken- 
hearted, and got a job as draughtsman. 
I guess he has been drinking consider- 
able. He first got started at it on 
account of his lung trouble, but was 
straight as a string all the time we were 
together. I think now it's more dis- 
couragement than anything else, and 
that he would be all right if he could 
get on his feet again. That isn't likely, 
though. He has lost his nerve. 

"I scraped together a few hundred 
dollars and came East. Father and 
mother are getting up in years and they 
wanted to see the grandchildren. We 
didn't care to worry the old folks with 
our troubles, and so didn't say anything 
about them, but after a month's visit we 
came here, where I could get work and 
not be so far away from home. I found 
things pretty dull, and when I stumbled 
onto this job I took it as a makeshift, 
until I could have a chance to look 

Morrison, sunk deep in his chair and 
with his eyes fixed upon the other man's 
face, had listened quietly, except to ask 
an occasional question concerning names 
and dates. He remained silent for a 
time after Stephens had finished, as 
though carefully weighing the matter. 
Suddenly he roused himself and leaned 

"Joe, you have got a good case, much 
better than you think. There are plenty 
of grounds for a damage suit, but I 
wouldn't advise that, as it would involve 
too much litigation. If you are willing 
to settle on the $50,000 basis, I can get 
it for you." 
"Willing!" cried Stephens, excitedly. 



"I'd be glad to take anything, but I 
don't see how " 

"Leave that to me. I have had deal- 
ings with these people myself, and there 
are certain reasons why they cannot 
afford to turn me down when I present 
the matter to them in the proper light. 
This lawyer of theirs is a person with 
whom I think I have some influence. I 
am better acquainted with him than I 
am with you. He used to consider him- 
self a pretty decent sort of fellow, if he 
was a lawyer, and I am satisfied that he 
wants to feel that way again. It is only 
charitable to say that he never would 
have had a hand in such dirty business 
if the facts had not been misrepresented 
to him, but that don't excuse him. Law- 
yers, in their zeal to serve rich clients, 
easily get the habit of not looking very 
carefully into the morals of a proceed- 
ing. Anyway, you and Dick are going 
to get your money." 

Morrison could not bring himself to 
the point of actually making a confes- 
sion. Some other time he would have 
the courage. There was no question, 
however, about the restitution part of it. 
Should his efforts with the company fail, 
he would pay every dollar of it out of 
his own pocket. 

"There, now, Joe! I don't blame yon 
for being a little broken up over the 
prospect of having your money again it 
must have been a hard strain on you 
but I won't listen to any gratitude talk, 
not now. When this thing is all fixed 
up and you know the whole story, if you 
feel like shaking hands over it and say- 
ing, 'Sammy, you're all right!' that will 
satisfy me. 

"Only one thing more, Joe. Next 
Monday I am going to start for Denver, 
and you have got to go along. We will 
find Dick and get him on his feet 


By Ernest McGaffey 

Author of "Sonnets to a Wife," "Poems of Rod and Gun," etc. 


a retired sea-dog with a penchant 
for literature. He had in early youth 
read extensively and scribbled industri- 
ously, and all through his strenuous 
maritime career the dream of winning 
fame and fortune with his pen .had never 
forsaken him. Indeed, even in the midst 
of his cruises he kept a journal, in 
which he jotted down his thoughts and 
experiences, and wrote his rhymes, for 

the captain was versically as well as 
prosily inclined. 

But there came a day when his voy- 
ages were over, and he retired at the 
age of fifty-three to a modest compe- 
tence. But while the years had passed 
the half-century mark with him, his 
heart was as youthful and his spirit as 
sanguine as in the heyday of his twen- 
ties. His longing to be an author was 
stronger than ever, and in these his leis- 



ure days he worked unceasingly on his 
compositions. The captain had touched 
at numberless ports and acquired a smat- 
tering of many foreign tongues. He had 
experienced moving accidents by flood 
and field, and had even passed one year in 
the interior on a Colorado ranch, where 
he had roughed it with the cowboys and 
acquired quite a knowledge of these 
amiable centaurs. 

In his stays on shore he had drifted 
around the streets of San Francisco a 
great deal, and had thoroughly familiar- 
ized himself with all phases of city life. 
The advantage of having been brought 
up on a farm until the age of eighteen 
was also an addition to his stock of ex- 
periences, and, altogether, the captain 
ought to have been well equipped as a 

He could write humorous and dialect 
verses, love' poems, elegies, child's 
poetry, odes, sonnets, lyrics, dramatic 
poetry, vers-de-societe, sea poems, west- 
ern poems with or without dialect, sailor 
and cowboy stories, idyls of the farm 
and fireside, sketches in Irish, German, 
Swedish, Bohemian, Polish, Swiss, 
French, Italian, Chinese, Siwash, Malay, 
Hindoo, Spanish, Mexican, negro and 
Patagonian dialect; heavy articles on 
naval affairs, such as deep-sea sound- 
ings, whale fisheries and maritime gun- 
nery; light articles, such as flirtation on 
the quarter-deck, the passion for the 
decollete in dress among the South 
Sea Islanders, or smuggling as a 
fine art, etc. He could write of war 
or peace, joy or sadness, sin or inno- 

With this remarkable equipment and 
a brain on fire with ambitious movings, 
the captain began to write and bom- 
bard the magazines and periodicals. 
But, alack for the uncertainty of hu- 
man affairs! The captain's manuscripts 
came back by the score. Verses that 
he had cried over would be returned by 
some unfeeling editor with some such 
printed balderdash as this: 


A Magazine for the American People 


"The editor has read your manuscript 
with abiding eagerness, but regrets ex- 
cessively that it is not quite adapted to 
the special requirements of The Stere- 
opticon. It is therefore returned to you 
reluctantly, with many thanks for your 
extreme courtesy in submitting it." 

Or possibly he might get a communi- 
cation from some editor in the editor's 
own handwriting which would read some- 
thing like this: 


Circulation Nine Million Copies 


Captain Emery Wilson, 

San Francisco, California 

Dear Sir: We have read with much 
pleasure your exciting story of "Dragged 
by a Greenland Whale," and believe 
with some changes it may be made ad- 
aptable to the readers of Anybody's. 
Could you not have the whale dive and 
come up with Captain Kidd's buried 
treasure, or butt into a mountain of float- 
ing ambergris worth untold millions, or 
land your party, just as he sinks beneath 
the biting harpoons, at some tropic 
shore which turns out to be an island 
which a trust buys for six or seven 
billion dollars? 

Or could not the whale get tangled up 
in a treasure-ship of bygone days and on 
being hoisted to the top bring it up with 
him, disclosing to the astonished and de- 
lighted gaze of his captors hundreds of 
chests fairly reeking with ingots, pieces 
of eight, or even pieces of nine, doub- 
loons, diamonds, gold and silver bars, 
emeralds, turquoises, garnets, pearls, 
plate, silks and all that sort of thing, 
don't you know? Our readers like to 
hear about things in which money is the 
, main topic. Sincerely yours, 


The captain's rage on getting these 
communications from day to day was 
something fearful to behold. 

He would deliver himself of perfect 
broadsides of oaths in all the dialects 
of which he was master, and grind his 
molars in an excess of sea-going fury. 



Month after month he sent his effu- 
sions away, and regularly as clock-work 
they came back to him. He grew mis- 
anthropical and moody and often sprang 
to his feet and paced up and down the 
deck of his little room, exclaiming in a 
passion of resentment: "Oh! If I but 
owned a magazine of my own!" 

One morning a knock at his door 
aroused him from a very pessimistic 
daydream. He opened the door and a 
gentleman of immaculate dress and 
severe air bowed respectfully. 
> "Captain Emery Wilson, I presume?" 
he asked deferentially. 

"That is my name," responded the 
doughty captain. 

"I am extremely glad to make your 
acquaintance," replied the gentleman, 
handing the captain his card. 

The captain looked at the card and 


Attorneys and Counselors 


"Mr. Wolfe?" queried the captain 

"No," was the stranger's answer, 
"Shark; M. E. Shark. Captain Wil- 
son," he continued in a firm tone, "I 
am here to acquaint you with the fact 
of your aunt Jemima's decease. You 
are her sole heir. It was supposed that 
she intended leaving her entire fortune 
to found a home for indigent bull-pups, 
one of whom was her constant attendant 
during her last years, but a fall down- 
stairs prevented this, and you as her 
next of kin and sole surviving relative 
inherit the entire estate. It amounts to 
two hundred thousand dollars," he 
went on, with a gleam of avarice in his 
pale green eyes. 

It was indeed true. Two weeks later 
the captain came into his own. How 
he blessed the slippery steps which 
carried off poor old Aunt Jemima. He 
took the bull-pup to his own home and 

ministered assiduously to its wants. 
Then he sat down to recover himself 
a little from .the delightful shock. A 
batch of returned mss. and the usual 
grist of oily and meaningless printed 
refusals set his peppery a temper ablaze 

"Now I'll have a magazine of my 
own!" he shouted, and the very next 
day saw him at work. He consulted an 
old chum of his, a practical printer, and 
in ten days to the hour from Aunt Jemi- 
ma's funeral the Transatlantic Magazine, 
"a publication for the toiling millions," 
was announced with a splendid flourish 
of trumpets. The captain hired an ad- 
vertising solicitor to take advertisements 
for nothing, and as his eccentricity had 
been thoroughly exploited, and as a mer- 
chant stood bound not to lose anything, 
he had advertising fairly thrust upon 

He kept the secret of the editorship 
buried in his own bosom, but as a matter 
of fact Captain Emery Wilson was sole 
editor of the Transatlantic. He would 
sit down of an evening and gravely write 
letters addressed "To the Editor of the 
Transatlantic Magazine," and transmit 
with these epistles various samples of 
humorous and dialect poems, love verses, 
elegies, child's poetry, odes, sonnets, 
lyrics, dramatic poetry, vers-de-societe, 
sea poems, western poems in and out 
of dialect, sailor and cowboy stories, 
idyls of the farm and fireside, sketches 
in Irish, German, Swedish, Bohemian, 
Polish, Swiss, French, Italian, Chinese, 
Si wash, Malay, Hindoo, Spanish, Mexi- 
can, negro and Patagonian dialect; heavy 
articles on naval affairs, such as deep- 
sea soundings, whale fisheries and mari- 
time gunnery; light articles such as flirta- 
tion abaft the quarter-deck, the passion 
for the decollete in dress among the 
South Sea Islanders, smuggling as a fine 
art, etc., etc., and NOT ONE OF 

On the contrary, the editor of the 
Transatlantic would kindly take the 



trouble to indite long letters to Captain 
Emery Wilson, commending the origi- 
nality and verve of his contributions and 
encouraging him to send more of his 
mss. to the Transatlantic. Captain 
Emery Wilson as a writer adopted vari- 
ous noms-de-plume in order to supply 
the demand of the editor for his writ- 
ings, and, besides, he always had at 
least four articles or stories and four 
poems in each issue of the Transatlantic 
Magazine over his own proper sig- 

Every other line of both verse and 
prose in each issue was the captain's 
work, hidden under some such nom-de- 
plume as H. B. Podge- Wilkinson, 
Thomas Globular Dubb, Alice Wheaton, 
John Stuffer, Professor Dwight Moral 
Ames, Chumpsterne Swenson, Dolly 
Varden, and names he picked out of the 
'Frisco directory. 

Many letters came to the editor of the 
Transatlantic magazine, and it is note- 
worthy and cheering to reflect that every 
solitary mss. in them contained was re- 
turned to the writer, provided of course 
that stamps accompanied the contribu- 
tion. The editor of the Transatlantic 
never read any contributions from any 
source save those of his own fertile brain, 
and invariably returned all mss. with 
anyone of a large number of printed 
stock refusals like those he had been 
in the habit of getting during his contri- 
buting days. 

At the end of one year he had printed 
all of his stuff, both humorous and dia- 
lect verses, love poems, elegies, child's 
poetry, odes, sonnets, lyrics, dramatic 
poetry, vers-de-societe, sea poems, west- 

ern poems with and without dialect, 
sailor "and cowboy stories, idyls of the 
farm and fireside, sketches in Irish, Ger- 
man, Swedish, Polish, Swiss, French, 
Italian, Chinese, Siwash, Malay, Hin- 
doo, Spanish, Mexican, negro and Pata- 
gonian dialect; heavy articles on naval 
affairs, such as deep-sea soundings, 
whale fisheries and maritime gunnery; 
light articles such as flirtation abaft the 
quarter-deck, the passion for the decol- 
lete in dress among the South Sea Is- 
landers, smuggling as a fine art and 
others, and in one week thereafter the 
office of the Transatlantic Magazine was 
closed, never to be reopened. 

The captain retired to his quarters, 
perfectly satisfied and happy. He had 
ignominiously turned down and rejected 
everything submitted to the Transatlan- 
tic excepting his own stuff, and in the 
whole year's edition there was no single 
line but his own. It cost him just sixty- 
three thousand, four hundred and twenty- 
seven dollars and twenty-seven cents, 
and the captain affirmed vigorously and 
even profanely that it was dirt cheap at 

He can be seen now any day in the 
streets of his chosen city, the very em- 
bodiment of peace and good nature, a 
sunny smile athwart the rubicund waste 
of his sea-faring frontispiece; or at even- 
ing in his snug little house, smoking a 
most curiously inlaid pipe and read- 
ing back numbers of the celebrated 
Transatlantic Magazine, in which 
with great profusion are to be found 
his articles, such as humorous and dia- 
lect verses and others as have been faith- 
fully and even painstakingly set down. 


By Eugene C. Dolson 

TO lives with happiness aglow 

* Laughter's glad notes are music rare; 

But sorrow would become despair 
If tears could never flow. 


"America is threatened by 
a deadly class struggle be- 
tween the money power 
and the mob." 

Ci6te/ luiih a. Jane 

A Plan for the Creation of National Uni- 
versity-towns on the Irrigated Public Lands, 
and How It Would Solve the Social Problem 

By Charles Ferguson 

Author of "The Religion of Democracy," "The Affirmative Intellect," etc." 


THE difference between a university 
and a high school nowadays is mainly 
the difference between hard lessons and 
easy ones between plane geometry and 
the calculus, between the Anabasis and 
the Greek plays. The original university 
idea has been allowed to lapse for a 
while. It must be recovered. 

The university had its origin in the 
Middle Ages. The great imperial 
schools of antiquity, such as the Museum 
at Alexandria, were not universities but 

a totally different kind of thing. The 
university grew out of the church in the 
twelfth century or thereabouts. The 
church had come into the midst of a civ- 
ilization that had been suffering for a 
long time, about four thousand years 
perhaps, from a terrific social disease a 
disease that worked a kind of organic 
lesion in common human nature and so 
had checked the course of social evolu- 
tion. For thousands of years before the 
beginnings of Christianity nothing con- 



siderable had been done to raise the 
general standard of living or make the 
average man more at home in the world, 
and for more than a thousand years after- 
ward the results in this line were so 
meager as to be nearly negligible. 

The disease from which the world 
suffered may be described as a morbid 
breach between the intellect and the 
emotions. The ancients had just as good 
heads as modern men and just as good 
hearts. There is no reason to suppose 
that the brains of our great men are any 
heavier than those of the Pharaohs, or 
their sentiments any finer. The trouble 
with the old world was simply that its in- 
tellect and its emotions had been divorced 
from each other. Its knowing-power was 
not on speaking terms with its motive- 

Emotion is the driving-force of life 
and intellect is the steering-apparatus. 
Emotion does all the work that is done 
in this world, but without intellect it is a 
tread-mill round there is no progress 
in it. On the other hand, thinking that 
is not touched with emotion, that is de- 
void of the passion of ideals, is mere 
logic-chopping or empty speculation. It 
has no power to move any man's hands. 
Because of this"original sin," therefore, 
this hereditary schism between the intel- 
lect and the emotions, the human race 
lost the power to do intelligent work and 
social order fell into an endless class- 
struggle between the mooners and the 

It was the most striking consequence 
of this disaster that for five thousand 
years nobody ever clearly thought of 
such a thing as a social organization for 
the advancement of the arts and sci- 
ences. It was the church that paved the 
difficult way to that idea by insistence 
that the God within a man and the God 
of the universe are one and the same 
God. This was as much as to say that 
the law of the heart can come to terms 
with the law of the head, and that the 
arts and the sciences are two sides of the 

same thing and must stick together. 
So it came to pass in due time that the 
university was born out of the cathedral 
schools. But the university was much 
more than a school. 


The universities in the thirteenth cen- 
tury Paris, Bologna, Oxford were 
municipalities. A university was a free 
city, jealously guarding its rights against 
all adverse claims of the pope and the 
emperor and striving to win a foothold 
upon the solid ground for a new kind of 
social order. The world had had more 
than enough of the rule of kings and 
more than enough of the rule of crowds; 
the time had come to make a beginning 
of a new kind of government a govern- 
ment by the Masters of Materials, 
in academic phrase, Master of Arts. 
That is certainly the kind of government 
that the future has in store for us. It 
will give a final quietus to our political 
bewilderment, for when it shall be 
fairly established it can never be over- 
thrown. The force by which govern- 
ments subsist is derived from the elemen- 
tal forces of nature. All the forms of 
government of which we have had ex- 
perience are unstable because in them 
the force which the law undertakes to 
consecrate does not coincide with the 
force that men derive from nature. But 
when government gets into the hands of 
those who have acquired mastery of the 
natural forces and know how to use them 
in the service of all, such a government 
will be permanent and endlessly progres- 
sive. It will be irresistible, both because 
it will have in its own hands the energies 
that furnish the driving power of revolu- 
tions, and because it will command the 
moral assent of the people by constantly 
serving them. It will fulfill the defini- 
tion both of a real democracy and a gen- 
uine aristocracy. 

Of course the universities of the Mid- 
dle Ages did not realize to the full the 
civic conceptions that were implied in 

1 76 


their charters. They left that for us to 
do. They were clogged with all the 
morbid traditions of the past. They 
made a tremendous effort to bring the 
scientific spirit into effectual correspon- 
dence with the humanistic spirit, to heal 
the immemorial breach between the in- 
tellect and the emotional forces of life; 
but the confused currents of the time 
were too strong for them, and the utmost 
that they could accomplish was to rough- 
sketch the design of a true civic order 
and leave it for the future to work out. 
The prophetic idea that we derive from 
them is the idea of a city with the laws 
for the advancement of the arts and sci- 
ences, a city dominated by artistic and 
scientific experts. 


Now the advancement of the arts and 
sciences means simply the bringing of 
human nature into more agreeable rela- 
tions with the nature of things. Stated 
in the language of economics this means 
raising the general standard of living. 
It means increasing the purchasing 
power of an average day's work. It 
means raising wages and lowering prices. 

The astonishing thing about our in- 
dustrial order as it exists is that there is 
as yet nowhere to be found in the mod- 
ern world such a thing as a corporation 
devoted to the increase of material well- 
being! There is nowhere a corporation 
organized and worked to better the 
physical standard of living. This is the 
grand oversight of modern civilization 
and the most damnatory indictment 
against our industrial order. How in- 
credible it will sound to those of our 
posterity who shall endeavor to find 
grounds of admiration for the pastl The 
nineteenth century they will be told 
supposed itself to be the age of social 
organization for the production of wealth, 
yet in that age the vast wealth that was 
produced was all in spite of the social 
organization ; for the law left the initia- 
tive and control of industry wholly in the 

hands of those whose sole credential 
was the possession of stocks, bonds and 
other certificates of indebtedness, and 
the sole aim of whose enterprise was to 
raise prices and lower wages in order 
that interest and profits might be in- 
creased. They will be told that in that 
century the idea of doing business for the 
sake of raising the standard of living was 
regarded as purely sentimental. In a 
word, posterity well discover that in the 
age which has just passed the intellectual 
forces of life were as completely, as 
morbidly divorced from the emotional 
forces as in any of the darkest and 
sickest periods of history. 

Time was that men here and there 
were more capable than they are today 
of assessing the value of a sound theory 
of seeing, in advance of a demonstra- 
tion, the force of a general truth. We 
have nearly lost the power of abstract 
thinking; witness the decadence of the- 
ology, whether "new" or "old," and the 
driving out of business of all those who 
seriously undertake to help the people to 
a coherent philosophy of life. Our prag- 
matical contemporaries are mostly "from 
Missouri" and must be ''shown." It 
might have been worth while, if the gen- 
eral psychological conditions were differ- 
ent, to go abroad preaching the gospel 
of the university, trusting the feeling 
mind and the understanding heart to dis- 
cover the stupidity and cruelty of 
the social theory that we are trying 
to live by, and to establish in every 
existing town and city ward an institu- 
tion that should embody the regen- 
erative university idea an institu- 
tion that should supersede the exist- 
ing religious sects and political parties 
. by an organization of the people in the 
spirit of the university; and that should 
replace the chaotic misrule of profes- 
sional good-men and professional smart- 
men by a government of those effectual 
civilizers and masters of arts who had 
proved their capacity to serve. There 
would be a fighting chance to make over 



the old cities on this new plan by sheer 
force of logic and common sense if it 
were not for our epidemic myopia of the 
abstract intellect. But as things stand 
the only way to give currency to the true 
university idea is to go out into the bare 
places and build a few university cities 
from the ground up, as samples. 


A city is substantially "free" when its 
economic life is not dominated by any 
power outside its own civic organization. 
To this end a municipal government 
ought to have primary jurisdiction over 
a sufficient area of land to support its 
population. The proposition, therefore, 
is to build university-towns, universities 
whose charters shall be municipal char- 
ters, and set them the task of subduing 
as much of the earth as they can manage 
say two or three million acres each, 
something over fifty miles square by 
the exercise of their own organic civiliz- 
ing powers. 

The university, once in possession of 
its land and "plant," should be self-sus- 
taining. It should also be very much 
more than self-sustaining; it should by 
its own creative energies furnish the 
highest artistic and scientific conditions 
of social existence now anywhere extant. 
A day's work should buy more than else- 
where; thus there would be set up a 
rousing inter - municipal competition 
which would compel all neighboring 
cities to civilize themselves on pain of 
the loss of population and the decline of 
real estate. For the city which can main- 
tain a higher rate of wages and a lower 
cost of living than its competitors, must 
perforce become the capital of the world. 
Nobody knows how high the organized 
artistic and scientific enterprise of a city 
can drive wages, or how low it can drive 
prices because no city has ever tried. 


American universities as they exist are 
the alms-houses of the arts and sciences. 

The creative intellect is pauperized in 
them and made the parasite of the artless, 
scienceless drudges of the field and work- 
shop. For example, the University of 
Texas is endowed with about two million 
acres of land. Can it subdue this princi- 
pality to the uses of the human ideal? 
Are the masters of arts in the Texas uni- 
versity showing the 'prentice hands how 
to make civility and grace and fair 
dwellings and laughing waters come up 
out of the sagebrush plains? Not at all. 
The lands are rack-rented for seventy 
thousand dollars to un regenerate ranch- 
men and mechanics; and with that sum 
and whatever else can be begged from 
the legislature or anybody else, a large 
number of book-men and boys are sup- 
ported in a state of boredom tempered by 
football, in order that the toilers of 
Texas may nurse the illusion that they 
have some vicarious part and lot in the 
wide humanities. It is the same nearly 
everywhere, of course; but the pathos of 
it seems somehow especially poignant, 
in Texas. 

America is threatened with a deadly 
class-struggle between the money-power 
and the mob. The former is the power 
of science working in abstraction from 
the humanities; the latter is the energy 
of the humanities driven blindly without 
science. To take sides in this struggle 
is to lose your vote. Both sides are 
sure to be beaten and would lose most 
in winning. There is still in this coun- 
try a whole-souled contingent that is 
'neither proletarian nor plutocratic. What 
it lacks is organization and a program. 
Here is the making of a prevailing polit- 
ical party. I venture to suggest that the 
program of this new party should be 
the creation of national university- 
towns on the public lands, first of the 
Western states and territories, then in 
all the eastern stales, -with a view to 
bringing the whole fabric of government 
into harmony with the principles that 
the humanities should prevail over the 

i 7 8 


money-power, and scientific efficiency 
over the crowd. 

The national government is building 
the Panama canal, working out great 
schemes of irrigation, and school-master- 
ing the Filipinos. No violence will be 
done to precedent if now that govern- 
ment shall undertake to establish genuine 
universities on the desert lands of the 


The desert lands are the best lands in 
the country; but they mock at private 
initiative and the free-booting money- 
maker. That is a providential fact. 
These lands have been reserved, without 
human foresight, for great adventures in 
corporate civilization. We need to be 
reminded, perhaps, that the famous 
cities of the antique world we're for the 
most part founded upon the practice of 
irrigation and nursed in the desert. 
Th'at old world was scientific enough to 
prefer its rainless lands Egypt and Pal- 
estine Asia Minor and Syria, the land 
of the Carthaginians and the Moors, of 
the Incas and the Aztecs. The simple fact 
seems to be that the soluble plant foods 
potash, lime, magnesia, sulphuric acid 
and so on are, in countries of abundant 
rainfall, mainly washed away and 
wasted; while in arid countries these 
elements accumulate in the soil an inex- 
haustible bank account to be drawn on, 
without possibility of "protest" through 
irrigation ditches. There is expert testi- 
mony to the effect that "the soils that lie 
west of the hundredth meridian in the 
United States, as compared with those 
that lie east of the Mississippi, contain 
on the average about three times as 
much potash, six times as much magne- 
sia, and fourteen times as much lime." 

So the new cities of the "great Ameri- 
can desert" are going to have solid 
elemental underpinning. 

In a few years perhaps a few months 

- New York, Philadelphia, and the 

other great cities of the East, will be 

suffering, as London is suffering today, 
from an appalling problem of the unem- 
ployed. Under existing economic 
arrangements the convulsions that are 
called commercial crises, with their at- 
tendant phenomena of "over-produc- 
tion" and failure of credit, are periodic 
and uanvoidable. For, as things stand, 
mercantile credit is based, not upon 
technological or value-producing ability, 
but upon ability to collect debts. And 
since our "prosperity" consists very 
largely in the increasing of the legally 
enforcable claims of the creditor class, 
every period of commercial expansion is 
bound to end soon or late in such an 
accumulation of bad debts and indigesti- 
ble securities as shakes everybody's con- 
fidence in the bill-collector. The crisis 
is therefore a part of the system and may 
be counted on. 


Before the next paroxysm of national 
heart-failure our party of the university 
propagandum should have braced the 
public mind with its definite program 
for the alleviation of the social distress. 
It should demand at once that the gov- 
ernment, on the completion of the im- 
mense irrigation projects in Arizona, in 
Colorado, in Idaho and elsewhere, shall 
not try to peddle out the redeemed lands 
to wandering prospectors and specula- 
tors, but that they shall be kept in bulk 
and, together with such adjacent public 
lands as may be available, shall be made 
like the District of Columbia the sites 
of national cities. The demand should 
be made that the charter of these cities 
should be framed after the manner of 
university charters establishing self- 
perpetuating faculties or governing cor- 
porations, with powers larger indeed than 
those of the commissioners who manage 
the civic affairs of the national capital 
city, but no different in principle. The 
members of these govern ing corporations 
should in the first instance be appointed 
by the president of the United States. 



If Mr. Roosevelt at the expiration of his 
present official term, instead of settling 
himself in a cloistered academic seat at 
Harvard as has been most unimaginably 
suggested, should be made Dean of the 
Faculty of the Municipal University of 
Lanfranc on the Gila river in Arizona, 
the work might be congenial and the re- 
sults momentous. The new university 
corporations should include all the Burn- 
hams and Olmsteads, the General Woods 
and Colonel Warings, the Sargents and 
St. Gaudens folk that might by any 
means be got to serve not forgetting 
such specialists as Professor Hilgard and 
Mr. Luther Burbank of California, Mr. El- 
wood Mead, who drew up the irrigation- 
law code of Wyoming which has been the 
working-model in that line of all the 
other far western states, and Mr. William 
E. Smythe, who wrote that luminous and 
prophetic book, "The Conquest of Arid 

When we shall have put in full charge 
of the several land-tracts, corporations 
composed after this manner, and shall 
have alloted to each concern a few mil- 
lions of dollars from the national treasury 
as a momentum-fund, the country 
should say to them: "Go ahead. 
Build cities in the university spirit and 
teach by demonstration how the arts and 
sciences may be advanced. We believe 
in you; we fetter you with no fine theo- 
ries of the rights of man; you are under 
no law but that of the federal courts and 
the constitution of the universe. Go on 
and clear spaces in which fine goods 
shall be cheaper than they are in New 
York and common men dearer. If 
Shontz or anybody else can scoop down 
the mountains at the isthmus, you also 
can level a few lifts." 


The immediate effect upon an era of 
commercial depression of an enterprise 
of this sort may be expected to be as 
stimulating as a first-class foreign war; 
the ultimate effect would be strikingly 

different, since instead of getting 
the mass of the people into debt, 
it would get them out of it, and instead 
of destroying wealth on a vast scale it 
would create wealth on a scale as vast. 
The effect would be as if half a score of 
world's-fair cities were to be built in a 
single year only these should be cities 
that could pay their own freight; and 
instead of crumbling into tinsel and 
plaster at the end of the gaudy show, they 
might be quite as permanent as anything 
earthly, and stand fair as the city of 
Damascus in the midst of its palm gar- 
dens and flashing streams when most 
that is called American had passed to its 
day of judgement. 

In these establishments the guide-lines 
of practical administration should be de- 
rived from the lineament of the univer- 
sity in its original and normal idea. 
The university is at the bottom religi- 
ous ; it has a gospel that preaches the unity 
and reasonableness of the ground-plan 
of the world. It is actuated by a faith 
that the laws of science are framed to 
match the laws of art that all material 
things are plastic under the hand of an 
indomitable ideal. Thus the university 
as a physical institution should be to the 
new towns what the cathedral was to the 
mediaeval cities of Europe. 

The university in its true character 
offers promotion and an expanding ca- 
reer on one single condition, to-wit: the 
achievement of some kind of value-pro- 
ducing efficiency. Its organization, 
therefore, should develop an ascending 
scale of ranks in which one might hope 
to become more commanding only by 
becoming more serviceable. The ser- 
vants should rule. They should not 
merely be permitted to serve; they have 
an authoritative and indefeasible right 
to rule. The men who know how to 
bring human nature into fruitful and 
victorious relations with the nature-of- 
things are an authentic democratic aris- 
tocracy, and must not, if they can help 
it, permit themselves to be overruled by 

i So 


mere numbers. This is a social principle 
that lies in the very marrow of the uni- 
versity-ideal. It antagonizes our hered- 
tary political prejudices, to be sure; yet 
not it but they must eventually give 
way. The principle in fine is this: 
In a sound industrial society the higher 
rank should elect the lower, not the 
lower the higher. The track - walker 
should not elect the section-boss, but 
contrariwise. Only the efficient are 
qualified to judge of a candidate's effic- 
iency. The violation of this principle 
seems to be the cause of the failure of 
most so-called co-operative experiments. 
It is the radical flaw in the proletarian 
program of* "scientific socialism." It 
would seem safe to say that American 
city-making can never become artistic 
and scientific so long as we cleave to the 
tradition of the sovereignty of majorities; 
and that the reason why the city of 
Washington is so incomparably better 
governed than any other city in the 
United States is that it is the only city 
in the country that is not governed by 
plebiscite. Majority-rule has indeed a 
revolutionary value; it is the only possi- 
ble counterpoise to the tyranny of birth- 
boosted incompetents. But when once 
a society has found its equilibrium in a 
sound industrial order it seems to be 
certain that the rule of kings and the rule 
of crowds must fall into contempt to- 

I do not mean to suggest that the na- 
tional cities in the West should be gov- 
erned by the president or congress. 
Whatever may be the justification of that 
plan in the peculiar circumstances of the 
city of Washington, the whole exemplary 
value of these new adventures would de- 
pend upon their being locally self-gov- 
erned; their corporations, once estab- 
lished, should have unrestricted power 
to recruit themselves from their own 

There is a prospect that pure science 

would receive an unprecedented impetus 
from universities of this new type. It 
is certainly a mistake to suppose that 
science in its larger and more speculative 
scope is best advanced when laboratory 
work and original research are carried on 
in a well endowed moral vacuum and in 
utter aloofness from practical affairs. 
The whole history of scientific progress 
points in an opposite direction, and goes 
to show that the largest accessions of 
knowledge and a true scientific philos- 
ophy are likely to come from a university 
that is enmeshed in an industrial order 
and whose atmosphere is aflame with a 
passion for social progress. Why is it 
that the scientific method burgeoned for 
a brilliant season in Athens, in Alexan- 
dria and in Syracuse and then died for 
a thousand years? It was because Aris- 
totle and Galen and Hipparchus and 
Ptolemy and Archimedes despised econ- 
omics and the social problem and dis- 
dained to apply their science to the ma- 
terial enrichment of the world; and be- 
cause the society in which they lived was 
utterly devoid of an industrial organiza- 
tion that could economize scientific ideas. 
Plutarch tells how King Hiero en- 
treated Achimedes almost, though not 
quite, in vain, "to turn his art from ab- 
stracted notions to matters of sense, and 
to make his reasonings more intelligible 
to the generality of mankind by applying 
them to the uses of common life." And 
he says also that Plato inveighed against 
Eudoxus and Archytas, who made some 
feeble efforts to translate their geometry 
into terms of mechanics, "inveighed 
against them with great indignation, as 
corrupting the excellence of geometry by 
making her descend from incorporeal 
and intellectual to corporeal and 
sensible things. " If there are savants 
nowadays that could not interest them- 
selves in such universities as are pro- 
posed, they belong by moral consanguin- 
ity, not to this age, but to that of Plato. 
The representative scientists of today 
are also masters of creative arts. I 



mean men of the stamp of Lord Kelvin 
and Thomas Edison, who have made 
electricity a familiar tool; Pasteur, who 
leaves his laboratory to destroy hog- 
cholera and cattle-plague, and Professsor 
Bertellot, who manages an experimental 
farm in the environs of Paris. Possibly 
our national universities in the West might 
furnish for the work of such men the best 
milieu that can be imagined. 



I asked the president of the territorial 
University of Arizona at Tucson why 
athletics do not. flourish in that institu- 

tion. He said: "The faculty here have 
gone in for the regular sports that are in 
vogue in eastern colleges, and have 
tried to interest the students in that sort 
of thing. But it is no use; the boys have 
absorbed their minds in a bigger game 
than football, the game of besting this 
desert here with the tools of science. 
And they are away every holiday with the 
engineers and irrigators to the bottom 
of mines and the tops of mountains - 
training for the Match." 

So it would seem that the city-build- 
ing university-idea, which has lain so 
long in the ground, has already sprouted. 

LYRICS * By Charles Warren Stoddard 


EYES, whose every glance is such 
I feel it like a velvet touch; 
Eyes that all my comfort slay, 
Yet grieve me when they turn away. 
Eyes that flicker without fire; 
That look, and burn without desire; 
That seem to darken while they beam 
And dart a shadow with each gleam; 
Eyes that smoulder while they sleep 
And glow like planets, when they peep 
From an unfathomable deep; 
Eyes that wound for pleasure's sake; 
That languish when they triumph take; 
And slumber most when most awake; 
Eyes that blur and blind my sight; 
That see my pain; that know my plight; 
O, thrill me! kill me with delight 
Ye dark moons in a silver night! 


SHALL I behold, what time the snows dis- 

In the soft wind along these silver boughs, 
Crisp bud and curling leaf the golden 


Of robin red-breast and the whip-poor-will? 
Shall I behold the sudden pulse, the thrill, 
As the rich blood, long dormant, 'gins to 

Among the meadows where the cattle 


Sad-eyed and tranquil, while they take their 

Shall I behold again, shall I behold 
The slumbering dead awaken as of old 

At sound of a still voice that quickeneth? 
There will I hymn thee to the very skies, 
Spirit of lonely Spring! I will arise 

I will arise from out this shadow of death. 


OH! love me not, that I may long for thee, 
Or, loving me, show not thy love alway; 
For love that seeks shall weave a song for 


But love unsought is love that's gone 

Love me, anon, and love will sicken me 
Even thy love, the love I most desire; 

The want of love alone may quicken me; 
The love that kindleth doth e'en quench 
the fire. 

Yea, it is right for me, but wrong for thee, 
To breathe a fruitless prayer with bated 

So, love me not, that I may long for thee 
Love and desire thee even unto death. 





ADVENTURES on ships on the high 
seas in -many different latitudes and 
in the ports of countries widely sepa- 
rated from one another are bound to 
occupy much space in the notebooks of 
the special correspondent who leads a 
world-girdling career. In my own note- 
book I find some scribbling, dated at 
the North Cape, wherein is described 
the taking of a photograph of the Mid- 
night Sun from the rail of a ship, at 
exactly eight bells in the night watch; 
and more scribbling, in which is re- 
corded a visit to Lord Nelson's flag- 
ship, "Victory," at Portsmouth, Eng- 
land, at the moment when the daily fresh 
wreath was brought aboard and placed 
reverently upon the spot on the deck 
where fell the hero of Trafalgar, Notice 

night stfii" i(t A'ort/i Cafe 



the steering wheel in the photograph of 
that scene on the "Victory." The 
wheel bears the famous words which 
Nelson signalled to his fleet just before 
the battle: "England expects every man 
will do his duty." Later I visited the 
present Lord Nelson's house near Salis- 
bury, and there, over the mantelpiece in 
the dining-room, in tiles, were miniature 

arctic explorer, in London. With the re- 
turn of the "Discovery," I was sure that 
he would have something of interest to 
say about Antarctic expeditions. 

"I once had a lady ask me in all 
seriousness," he said, "if it were not 
really awfully hot in the Antarctic 
region. 'It's so very far south, you 
know,' she remarked. In fact, many 

"A visit to Lord Nelson's flagship, ' Victory,' at the moment the daily fresh 

wreath was brought aboard and placed reverently on the spot on the 

deck where fell the hero of Trafalgar " 

reproductions of the signal-flags that 
spelled the words which were read by 
all who fought at Trafalgar. 

Another entry in my notebook tells of 
boarding H. M. S. Discovery at Spit- 
head, England, on the day of her arrival 
from her "farthest south" voyage in the 
Antarctic. That was on the tenth day 
of September, 1904, and on the follow- 
ing day I called upon Captain Frederick 
George Jackson, the distinguished Ant- 

persons have suggested that it must be 
very warm down there, their idea being 
that as the South Polar region is so 
much farther south than, for example, 
the Riviera, it must be simply roasting. 
But I fancy Captain Scott of the 'Dis- 
covery' could tell of an increasing num- 
ber of frozen noses with every degree 
farther south. 

"The great advantage of exploration 
in the South Polar country, " continued 

1 84 


"hoarding H. M. S. T>lscovery : % . . . on the day of her arrival from 
her 'farthest south' voyage in the Antarctic " 

Captain Jackson, "is that down there 
is probably a great, solid continent. 

This affords a better chance of 
success for South Pole expeditions, 
than for North Pole seekers, because 
it is possible in the Antarctic 
region to establish depots of sup- 
plies. Also, the nature of the region 
permits the party to make good its 

"Not so many explorers have ventured 
south, however, because of the much 
greater cost of such an enterprise and 
the much longer voyage. Then there is 
not the romance that is attached to the 
attempts to reach the North Pole. Many 
explorers have sought the North Pole, 
while comparatively few have sought the 
South Pole; so there is the greater in- 
centive in the hope of succeeding in 
the North Polar region where so many 
have failed., 1? 


One of my most interesting shipboard 
experiences occurred off the Azores 
while we lay off Fayal in a North Ger- 
man Lloyd liner bound for Genoa. 
While we lay there I witnessed the end 
of about as pretty a romance as I ever 
expect to see. As I stood by the ship's 
rail, the first human being I saw on 
shore was a young girl the heroine of 
my story. She stood at the edge of a 
bluff for the coast of the Azores is 
everywhere precipitous gazing seaward 
like a statue. When we dropped anchor 
she moved into the shadow of the wall 
of coal that crowned the cliff and 
watched. When our shore party entered 
the small boat, the girl ran up the white 
road toward a pink inn, her red bodice 
and white apron catching the rays of the 

With the shore party I climbed to the 



pink inn, and there, on the portico, was 
the girl in the red bodice and the white 
apron. One of the ladies of the party 
engaged her in conversation, and pres- 
ently the girl knelt at the lady's knee 
and wept. The lady talked to the girl 
in Portuguese for the lady was herself 
from Lisbon. Presently a big man with 
a dark skin and wearing a waiter's apron 
joined the two women. He nudged the 
girl roughly; but she only crept closer 
to the Portuguese lady, who in turn ad- 
dressed herself to the big, dark man. 
Eventually we returned to the ship and 
with the Portuguese lady came the peas- 
ant girl of the Azores. 

The lady told us that she was carrying 
Papita that was the girl's name away 
as her maid. Papita was the daughter of 
the dark man in the waiter's apron, the 
keeper of the pink inn. Papita loved 
Arlo, a young Portuguese farmer, and 
Arlo loved Papita. But both were un- 
happy. Poor Papita's parents opposed 
her lover's suit, and the priest also said 
she must not marry the farmer. For 
Arlo meant soon to leave the island, 
they said, and when he went he would 
carry Papita away with him to Portugal. 
So Papita wept in the lady's lap and 
told her story. 

The innkeeper, when he learned of 
his daughter's wicked desire to leave 
the island, was angry. But when the 
lady promised that he should have all 
the money which Papita should earn as 
lady's maid, he called in the priest and 
together they blessed Papita and allowed 
her to go to the great white ship. So 
Papita wept no more. Yet she looked 
landward with wistful face, for she was 
going away and had not even said good- 
bye to her lover. 

The next morning we were steaming 
on to the next port, Gibralter, and I 
went through the ship looking for Pap- 
ita. What was my surprise to find her 
standing by the rail, in the steerage, 
locked in the arms of a stalwart young 
man, They two stood as if alone on the 

ship, and as I kodaked them they were 
gazing back toward the Azores which 
they had left forever. The picture ex- 
pressed the love that passeth under- 
standing, even among the lowliest of 
an obscure island of the Atlantic. For, 
after dark at Fayal, before we weighted 
anchor, Arlo the farmer had come 
aboard to sail away with his Papita. 

Where she went he would go a Ruth 
and a Naobi of the Azores. When we 
reached Genoa, a priest made them one. 


From Italy I went to Germany to 
Potsdam, to "cover" one of the periodi- 
cal visits of Emperor William to that 
"suburban seat" of royalty. The most 
imposing ceremony I witnessed there 
occurred on a Sunday morning when the 
Kaiser went forth to attend service at 
the Garrison church. With his imperi- 
al military escort, his majesty arrived at 
the church a few minutes before the 
time set for the service. Outside the 
church door he stood talking with his 
officers and the Lutheran pastor in 
which time was made the photograph 

" What wns my surprise to JinJ her standing 

by the rail . . . locked in the arms uf 

a stalwart young man . . . . a Rtith 

and A'aobi of the Azores" 

here reproduced. The church was 
crowded, for even the lowliest of his 
subjects is permitted to worship with the 
German monarch in that church at 

1 86 


Potsdam. Nearly all the pews were 
occupied by officers, however, so not 
much room was left after all for the 
lowly. The next day, when the church 
was empty, a photograph was made 
showing the royal pews. Upon the 
emperor's return to Berlin occurred a 
scene well worth recording here, as it 
involves a description of the kaiser's 
dramatic demonstration of his friend- 
ship for the United States. My duty 
called me that day to the American 
Embassy, in Unter Den Linden. Our 
ambassador at that time was Mr. Tower. 
A dense throng of people lined the 
sidewalks for the emperor was to 
pass our embassy on his way from 
the railroad station to his palace. 
The crowd in front of the embassy 
seemed a bit reluctant to yield to 
my request for "way" for entrance. 
A policeman came to my rescue and 
so I got into the embassy and from 
an upper window waited for the drama 
to begin. 
Presently "Hoch der kaiser!" or 

something to that effect, was flung from 
ten thousand throats. His majesty was 
approaching. He was seated in one of 
his less pretentious carriage and wore 
a uniform. Over the building from 
which I was watching the scene floated 
the American flag. As his majesty ap- 
proached the embassy he stood up in 
his carriage, bared his head and saluted 
first the Stars and Stripes and then the 
representative of our national emblem, 
Mr. Tower, who stood in one of the 
windows. No act could have so im- 
pressed the populace as this demon- 
stration of their sovereign's feelings 
toward the United States. It was dram- 
atic and it was intentionally so, appar- 
ently, as is almost every public act of 
the kaiser's. But it was significant, 
and the people understood why, for 
the newspapers that very morning 
had printed the story of a supposed 
lack of courtesy on the part of the 
Berlin Chamber of Commerce in not 
inviting the American ambassador to a 
certain banquet of international import. 

"On a Sunday morning when Emperor William II attended service at the 
Garrison church . . . with his imperial escort . . . at Potsdam" 



Inside the Harrison chnrch at Potsdam, shoi*. 1 - 

ing the royal pews occupied by Emperor 

William and his family 


The scene changes to the edge of the 
Orient Tunis, in northeast Africa, 
where the bey is the nominal ruler, but 
where the government is really in the 
hands of a French resident-general. 

Probably every correspondent in the 
Orient yearns at some time or other to 
see the inside of a harem. I yearned. 
And my yearning led to what might be 
called An Adventure in a Forbidden 
Place. I discovered the place solely by ac- 
cident. At the house of a rich Algerian 
merchant, who was educated in the west 
and whose wife was an Englishwoman, 
I met a Turkish gentleman, who was also 
educated in the west but who was never- 
theless a fat and terrible Turk. There 
was also present a young English girl, my 
hostess' niece. She was engaged to be 
married to the terrible and fat Turk. 
She was sweet; but her riance had the 
face of a brute. The Turk drank a great 
deal of wine; so much that when he 

rose to leave the house he staggered. I 
voluntered to see him home, and he ac- 
cepted my escort. 

We got into a native cab and drove 
to the Turk's house. We entered, the 
Turk leaning on my arm. He tried to 
talk, but he only became more maudlin. 
A very stout woman in a slouchy robe 
de chambre advanced and took the 
Turk away from me. She spoke 
to me in a strange language and I 
learned afterward that she, too, was from 
Turkey. She was for the present in 
charge of the home of the Turk. 

When I left the house, fifteen minutes 
later, I had learned the exact nature of 
that "home." It was a harem. It was 
much the same as any place called by 
that name in Constantinople or Algiers. 
It was a Turkish harem in the heart of 
Tunis, and it and all that were in it 
were the property of the terrible Turk. 

In the harem at Tunis : " The Persian girl 
induced one of her ' sisters ' to press the 
button, so that she could have a picture 
in which 'the monsieurs 1 as well as her- 
self would figure" 

And yet that lordly potentate was at that 
very time engaged to marry a sweet girl 
of England. 

My information regarding the harem 
was obtained from one of its inmates, a 

1 88 


young girl. She was very pretty and 
very silly. In her crimson satin costume 
with baggy trousers and her gorgeous 
beads and bracelets, she looked very 
foolish and very bewitching. She wore 
crimson silk stockings which were deco- 
rated conspicuously with bunches of 
black thread with which many holes had 
thus been sewed up. Her satin slippers 
were much down at the heel. As near 
as I could make out she was a Persian. 

While the Turkish woman dragged 
away her drunken master, I saw the 
young girl just described passing through 
the courtyard. "Byjove! that's a pretty 
girl!" I muttered, supposing that I 
would not be understood. 

"Did you speak, monsieur?" she 
asked, but smiling in a way to indicate 
that she had understood my exclamation 
of admiration. 

"Yes, yes," I said, delighted to find 
that she spoke French. "Do you live 
here? I stepped in with with your 
father. Do you live here?" 

She burst into harsh laughter. "Yes, 
monsieur! He is my pretty father. My 
father of the flesh sold me to this pretty 
father. Understand? You have a 
camera," she added, her eyes on the 
kodak which I happened to have 
with me. "I want you to take my 

"But, explain, madamoiselle," I said, 
ignoring her reference to my camera. 
"You say your father sold you to that 
fat man. How do you mean?" 

"Yes, for gold, monsieur," she replied. 
"My father brought me from Persia to 
Algiers, ' and then he sold me to my 
pretty father, who brought me here to 
Tunis. You see, my father of the flesh 
was poor, oh! very poor. He was in the 
army. But he sold his gun for gold. 
And he sold his uniform, his English 
boots and all for gold. And then he 
sold his daughter for gold. He is 
dead and I am in this place." 

"This place? What kind of a place 
is this?" 

She looked around furtively. "Lis- 
ten, monsieur. In this place there are 
fourteen girls like me, all sold by our 
fathers to the great lord who drinks 
much wine. We would like to go.put. 
We are not allowed to pass the porter at 
the gate. We would like to run away, 
but we have no place to go to, no money, 
no friends, no anything. Now monsieur 
will you take my picture? You need 
the sun? Well, when?" 

"Tomorrow, any time, madamoiselle, 

"But you cannot come in; I cannot go 
out. The great lord will be ugly when 
he is sober and finds you came in with 

"Madamoiselle, I have an idea. I 

" 7Vie Key of Tunis KWS on his way to Ttsit 
President Loubet " 

will leave this camera with you. You 
will hide it as best you can. Tomorow 



" What pleased the bey (of Tunis] all the more was that a French 
regiment, just Iiomc from Tunis, headed the procession . . . in Paris' 

when the great lord goes out, you will 
go on the roof and get one of the other 
girls to press this button so. Then 
bring the camera to the courtyard and 
place it in that corner. I will call and 
tell the porter I left it here when I came 
home with the great lord. The porter 
will find the camera and hand it to me." 

This plan was carried o.ut to the letter. 
When I called for the camera, I was ac- 
companied by a young friend a French 
newspaper man who also carried a 
kodak. As the porter handed out my 
camera, I thought: "Why not see this 
harem? The big Turk will be away till 
nightfall and a gold piece will 'fix' the 
porter." It did. Now, could he get 
my friend and myself up to the roof, 
where the girls passed most of their 
time, without encountering the Turkish 
woman, the manager of the harem? 

Up the stone stairways we climbed as 

silently as we could, without speaking, 
till we reached the roof. All the girls 
of whom my silly and bewitching friend 
of the night before had told me were 
sitting in a group chattering like mag- 
pies. But at sight of us they ran away 
in apparent terror and horror, retiring to 
their various rooms, all of which opened 
on the roof, all in a tier, like so many 
cells. I say all the girls fled. I mean 
all save the Persian girl who had made 
this glimpse of a Tunis harem possible 
for me. She remained. She was not at 
all abashed at the sight of my young 
French friend, but talked to him with 
such volubility that I'm sure her words 
were uttered at the rate of sixty a 
minute. And when we took her picture 
she acted as delighted as a child that is 
allowed to play with a wonderful toy. 
She even induced one of her "sisters" 
to come out and press the button, so that 


she could have a picture in which "the 
monsieurs" as well as herself would 
figure. That photograph I send to the 
editor with this article. 

Now at that time the Bey of Tunis 
was on his way to visit President Loubet 
in Paris. I got passage on a "tramp" 
to Port Said, where I caught a P. and O. 
steamer bound for Marseilles and so 

but one of his suite, his advance courier. 
The story was told to me by one who 
knew all the facts, one connected with 
the Elysee Palace Hotel. It is an amus- 
ing story illustrative of the confusion 
growing out of the similiarity of the 
name of the hotel and the official resi- 
ence of President Loubet, the Palace of 
the Elysee. 

It seems that when the bey's courier 
arrived in Paris, unheralded in an offi- 

"At the famous A lame da ranch resort at Las Cruces, New Mexico, I 
sat in the open air at a Sunday morning service" 

arrived in Paris in time to witness the 
public ceremonies incidental to the re- 
ception of the bey. On the fourteenth of 
July the significance of -which day, in 
France, I need not explain a grand pro- 
cession, in addition to the maneuvers 
outside Paris, was held in the bey's 
honor. What pleased the bey all the 
more was that a French regiment, just 
home from Tunis, headed the proces- 

The story I have to tell in this con- 
nection, however, concerns not the bey, 

cial sense, he ordered the cabman at the 
railway station to drive him to the Elysee 
Palace. The cabman promptly drove 
the courier to the Elysee Palace Hotel; 
the porters there quite as promptly 
carried in the courier's luggage; the 
clerk no less promptly assigned the 
courier to rooms; and there he was. 

He had never been in Paris before. 
He spoke very little French, and to all 
his inquiries as to whether he was in the 
Elysee Palace he received a prompt 
"Oui, monsieur." So he calmly waited 



" The 'dobe-builtj wild-western town of Las Cruces, New Mexico, where 
I went to study the conditions surrounding the tuberculosis patients" 

for President Loubet to take cognizance 
of his arrival. Dinner-time came and he 
timidly asked if Monsieur le Presidente 
had been informed of his coming. The 
hotel people thought that he was merely 
a queer foreigner, or assumed that he 
was joking. But he demanded an an- 
swer, and, of course, finally elicited the 
information that the president lived at 
the Palace of the- Elysee, not at the 
Elysee Hotel. About bed-time he ar- 
rived at the president's palace, declaring 
Paris to be a strange place, since there 
were two Elysee Palaces. 


From the gaiety and luxury of the 
French capital to a town in the irrigated 
region of New Mexico an oasis in the 
desert of that territory is, as the actors 
say, a big jump. But in the life of the 
special correspondent there are jumps of 
a length that an actor seldom makes. I 

must take the reader, then, to the quaint, 
'dobe-built, wild-western town of Las 
Cruces, in the southern part of New 
Mexico, a short ride by rail from El 
Paso, Texas. I had just come from a 
trip to the copper mines at Cananea, 
Mexico, owned by Colonel William C. 
Greene, the "Copper King." With 
Greene was a party of distinguished 
capitalists and statesmen, traveling in 
three private cars. I left the Greene 
party at El Paso and went up into New 
Mexico, stopping for a couple of weeks 
at Las Cruces to study the conditions 
which surrounded tuberculosis patients, 
who were flocking to the region by hun- 

At the famous Alameda Ranch Resort 
at Las Cruces, where I put up I sat, 
with the other guests at the ranch, in 
the open air at Sunday morning service 
conducted by a lay preacher. While lis- 
tening to the preacher's word, I looked 


upon the group in that Temple of Out- 
doors, reflecting that of all those present 
only my wife and myself were "well" 
persons. All the others were sufferers 
from the great white plague. The con- 
gregation represented thirteen different 
states and was a contingent of the na- 
tion's tuberculosis patients. The service 
was typical of the manner of life at 
Nature's vast sanitarium in New Mexi- 
co, where pilgrims from every state in 
our Union come to sleep and eat and 
work and play outdoors. 

One of the congregation was a man 
who said he was from Texas who said, 
indeed, that he had been driving a cab 
in San Antonio, but had contracted 
tuberculosis and so found it necessary 
to seek the higher altitude of this New 
Mexican resort. He was a superior kind 
of man, and I enjoyed many a horseback 
ride with him. One day I said to him: 

"Ever been in England?" 

"Lived there once," he replied lacon- 

After several more questions and more 
laconic replies, I told him that I had 
just spent six months in England. And 
for "half an hour as we rode to the Rio 
Grande I told him stories of the London 
which he admitted he had not seen for 
fifteen years. Gradually his eye bright- 
ened with interest. Memories seemed 
to be teeming in his mind. His enthu- 
siasm over things of "home" for he 
admitted that he was an Englishman 
was at last so aroused that he began 
talking of the past. 

"I came to Texas fifteen years ago," 
he said, "to make money in cattle. I 
had money, and I announced that I 
would buy 50,000 head of cattle in one 
lot. And they cheated me. After that 
I never cared what happened to me. I 
loved horses I knew nothing else to do 

so I drove a cab. I've been driving 
cabs ever since and if ever I get out of 
this tuberculosis game, I'll drive a cab 

"But you say they cheated you," I in- 
terposed. "How?" 

"Oh, it was easy. They told me they 
had rounded up the 50,000 head of cat- 
tle ready for me all fat, fine animals, in 
condition for immediate market. They 
said I could come to the ranch and count 
the animals and pay for them. I went 
to the ranch and they drove the cattle in 
a continuous line right before my eyes. 
And I counted them counted 50,000, 
the process of counting occupying a 
week. And I paid for the 50,000 cattle. 
The men who took my money vanished 
as if into the earth. 

"Well, my cattle were there in vari- 
ous bunches. A buyer from a great 
packing-house was there to take the ani- 
mals off my hands. He said he would 
have to count them. He did so. At the 
end of the first day's counting he came 
to me and said: 

" 'I've counted all your cattle, and you 
have exactly 5,000 head." 

"'You are mistaken,' I replied. 'I've 
got 50,000 head, for I counted them 

"Well, sir, the upshot of the matter 
was that I really had bought only 5,000 
head; but the sellers had trailed the 
5,000 ten times around a little mountain 
and the same 5,000 had thus passed ten 
times under my nose for me to count. 
Say, have you ever seen supernumeraries 
on the stage in a theater pass back and 
forth from wing to wing? You think a 
big army is passing in review. In 
reality, the same few men are passing 
and repassing. Well, that was the case 
with my cattle that's all. And I was 

The whole world cannot cure you of consumption, 
But you can cure yourself, if you have gumption. 


A GAIN the earth is decked for May; 
Gay daffodils and violets bloom, 
The robins sing their merriest lay 

And all the world has lost its gloom. 

From new-born flow'rs sweet perfumes drift, 
New hopes seem crowning every hour, 

And balmy breezes gently lift 

The blossoms in my lady's bower. 

Young Love comes dancing up the way 
Where lovers linger in the lane ; 

O tender hours! O joyous May! 

Thou'rt welcome to our hearts again. 

Louise Lewin Matthews 


K: K K 

By C. W. Tyler 




WHILE the old gentleman was mak- 
ing praiseworthy efforts in different 
ways to extricate his son from the peril- 
ous position in which he found him, Mr: 
Bob Lee Templeton neither slumbered 
nor slept in his anxious desire to bring 
this same son to close acquaintanceship 
with the hangman as speedily as possi- 
ble. On the night when Sandy Kin- 
chen shuffled off his mortal coil under 
the gallows-tree, Templeton, as will be 
remembered, pleaded for the law, main-" 
taining that it was in all respects suffi- 
cient for the trial and punishment of 
criminals, and that society must look to 

the law alone for redress of its wrongs. 
Now, when the brutal scoundrel who 
ought to have died in Sandy's place 
was apprehended and turned over to 
the sheriff, Templeton felt it incumbent 
upon him to make good his assertion 
that the law could be relied on to deal 
with evil-doers, and he set to work to aid 
the law to the extent of his ability. He 
was young, had leisure, some money not 
needed for his immediate necessities, 
and he did not object, for more reasons 
than one, to spending a considerable part 
of his time in and about the region 
known as the Marrowbone Hills. He 

THE K. K. K. 

became quite intimate here with Pear- 
son, who was working up the case in 
a quiet but effectual manner, and with 
others who were bending their efforts in 
the same direction. He also, by occa- 
sional interviews with Major Habersham, 
was enabled to inform himself pretty 
well as to the state of the country, and 
at each of his visits for this purpose he 
managed to while away a little time in 
the society of the major's daughter with- 
out being desperately bored. 

There were a half-dozen counties in 
the judicial circuit, and neither the 
judge nor the attorney-general resided 
in that in which Ankerstrom was to be 
arraigned and tried. Twice a year they 
rode into the town of Ashton and de- 
voted themselves for two weeks to the 
task of clearing the docket of such cases 
as they found awaiting them. Usually 
more than half of this limited period 
was consumed by the judge in hearing 
civil cases, and fully half of the time of 
the attorney-general was taken up in 
drawing indictments and examining wit- 
nesses before the grand jury, to the end 
that fresh grist might be brought before 
the judicial mill to be ground. When 
the two weeks had elapsed, the grand 
and petit juries were discharged, the 
minutes of the court were signed, and 
the judge and the state's officer betook 
themselves to another county to begin 
over again the process of administering 
justice and upholding the majesty of the 

The Fall term of the court at Ashton 
began on the first Monday in September, 
and, as it was important to use dispatch, 
all the witnesses in the Ankerstrom case 
had been summoned and were on hand 
ready to give evidence before the grand 
jury. Both Templeton and Pearson had 
labored to secure their attendance, and 
when mustered there was a goodly array 
of them, for, as a matter of precaution, 
every person who knew anything of the 
case, either by hearsay or otherwise, had 
been brought to court. The attorney- 

general was a middle-aged gentleman 
of somewhat nervous temperament and 
rather prone to lose his temper on 
slight provocation, but capable of get- 
ting through with a good deal of busi- 
ness in the course of the day. He con- 
versed on this occasion privately with a 
good many persons, young and old, 
black and white, male and female, who 
had been summoned to testify against 
divers offenders, and embodied the sub- 
stance of the information thus obtained 
in indictments which he drew hurriedly 
for the consideration of the grand jury. 
Somewhat to the annoyance of Mr. Bob 
Templeton, he postponed speaking to 
the witnesses in the Ankerstrom case 
until late in the afternoon, and after his 
conference informed them that they must 
all come back the next day, as he would 
not have time to draw so important an 
indictment until he went to his room 
that night. This announcement caused 
grave dissatisfaction among the wit- 
nesses, and Templeton indulged in 
some censure upon the state's officer, 
but Pearson said he saw nothing unrea- 
sonable in his behavior, and that when 
people came to court they must expect 
to put up with a little inconvenience. 

Next morning the witnesses were all 
on hand, most of them in no very good 
humor; and during the course of the 
second day they were admitted, one by 
one, into the sacred precincts of the 
grand-jury room, where each was per- 
mitted to tell his tale. Late in the after- 
noon the grand jurors thirteen in num- 
ber, headed by an officer filed into the 
court-room with a formidable batch of 
true bills and other important papers. 
These the foreman gravely handed to 
the judge, who, after brief inspection, 
passed them to the clerk, who thrust 
them at once into his bosom with the air 
of one who has a dreadful secret in his 
keeping which he would rather die than 

Pearson and Templeton received pri- 
vate information from the attorney 



general that several indictments against 
Ankerstrom were in the batch of papers 
they had seen the clerk secrete in his 
bosom, and, as a special favor, after 
court adjourned they were allowed to in 
spect them. One charged the accused, 
Ankerstrom, with having feloniously 
taken and carried away a chopping-ax 
of the value of two dollars and of the 
goods and chattels of Gabriel Have- 
meyer, with the intent on the part of 
the culprit to deprive the true owner of 
his property and cdnvert the same to his 
own use. The second charged the offen- 
der with having broken open a mansion 
house in the night-time with the iptpn* 
to commit a felony therein. The tnird 
paper asserted that the same criminal 
had wilfully and maliciously set fire to 
and burned the dwelling-house of Mrs. 
Susan Bascombe, and was, therefore, 
guilty of the crime of arson. A fourth 
indictment charged the villain with hav- 
ing stolen from the Hopson family one 
table-cloth worth fifty cents and divers 
and sundry articles of the aggregate 
value of three dollars, to-wit: two broiled 
chickens, three dozen biscuits more or 
less, one boiled ham, one bag of sweet 
cakes, a jar of cucumber pickles, twenty- 
seven dried-apple pies commonly known 
as "flapjacks," etc., etc. 

When they had finished reading the 
last paper the attorney-general informed 
them that he might have preferred a 
sixth charge against the accused for per- 
sonal assault upon the sick man Hopson ; 
and possibly a seventh, for breaking 
into the house, since some force was 
used in effecting an entrance. Many 
prosecuting attorneys in the state, he 
said, would have pursued this course 
with a view of increasing costs, but he 
was not that sort of a man. Templeton 
commended him for his frugality where 
the public interest was concerned 
and inquired as to which of the 
charges the accused would be brought 
to trial upon first, or whether he would 
be held to answer them all at once. 

"Why, no indeed," answered the 
state's officer. "That wouldn't do, you 
know. We will try him on one of these 
indictments and if we fail we will take 
him to task on another; and if we have 
bad luck there, we will drag him up on 
the third; and if our hold breaks there, 
we will tackle him on the fourth, and 
so on. This is about the course we'll 
pursue, and by the time we're through 
with him, unless I'm pretty badly fooled, 
there won't be much left of him." 

"Well," said Templeton, who being 
younger than Pearson assumed the right 
to speak for them both, "this fellow has 
cou.;\ -tted murder, a cold-blooded and 
cowardly murder; there isn't any doubt 
about that. Suppose we therefore ar- 
raign him for murder and try him and 
hang him for murder right away and let 
the other charges against him be dis- 
missed. When we've hung him for his 
principal offense, he will have passed 
beyond our reach, and there'll be noth- 
ing else we can do to him." 

"There's sense in that," responded 
the attorney-general, musingly; and he 
looked out of the window as if he was 
turning the proposition over in his mind. 
Templeton handed him a cigar, and 
when he had puffed at this a while, :id 
found it was a good cigar, he seemed 
to attach even more importance to the 
young man's proposition. "There's a 
good deal in that; there's a good deal 
in that," he repeated, nodding his head 
to Templeton. "Well, we'll try that." 

"Suppose we set the murder charge 
for one day next week," said Templeton, 
"and try him and convict him on that. 
We might possibly get ready by tomor- 
row, but we'd better not go too fast. 
We can have all our witnesses back here 
next Tuesday, and we'll take up the 
case on that day and go right along 
with it. That is, of course, if it suits 

"That's a good idea," said the attor- 
ney-general. "Fust rate; fust rate. I'll 
have the case set for that day. The fd- 

THE K. K. K 


low's down here in jail at Coopertown, 
ain't he?" 


"Who's his lawyer?" 

"Nobody, I reckon. He's not able to 
employ a lawyer, and a lawyer wouldn't 
do him any good. He's guilty beyond 
all question." 

"All right; we'll try him next Tues- 
day. I'll get the judge to assign some 
of these young fellows to defend him," 
and the attorney -general walked away 
and had the case of Ankerstrom, charged 
with murder, set for the following Tues- 
day. He directed the clerk also to for- 
ward without delay a copy of the indict- 
ment to the prisoner in the Coopertown 

Seeing that the attorney-general had 
his hands full of other matters, our two 
friends, together with other active per- 
sons from the neighborhood of the trag- 
edy, set to work at once to make ready 
the state's case by the following Tuesday. 
The witnesses were all resummoned to 
appear, and trusty individuals were de- 
tained to look after those about whose 
voluntary attendance there was some 
doubt. Mr. Bob Lee Tempeton had en- 
tirely recovered from his discontent of 
the evening before, and now cheerfully 
did his endeavor to put everybody else 
in a hopeful frame of mind, and induce 
them to return to court at the appointed 
time. There were some grumblers, of 
course, and some prophets of evil, but 
all these were put to silence by the assur- 
ances and encouragement of the candid 
youth. "You fellows be sure to come 
back," cried Mr. Templeton to a group 
of witnesses, who were muttering about 
the distance they had to travel in going 
to and from the court. "Let every 
man of you come back next Tuesday. 
If a few stay away, don't you see, that 
will spoil the whole business, for like as 
not some of the missing ones may be 
important witnesses, and the case would 
have to be continued for lack of proof. 
That will never do in the world. So let 

every man be on hand to answer to his 
name next Tuesday." 

"I've lost two days already," replied 
one of his auditors, "and the worms are 
eating up my tobacco." 

"That's bad; that's bad," rejoined 
Mr. Bob Lee Templeton, in a sympa- 
thetic tone. "I know just how it is, my 
friend, for I'm a farmer myself. But 
come one more time just one more 
time. Don't forget that a good old 
woman has been murdered, and that the 
scoundrel who killed her should be hung 
without delay. I know just what I'm 
talking about, and I tell you one more 
day in this cause will be sufficient. I 
and the state's attorney have talked the 
thing over, and you can all depend on 
what I say." 

When the following Tuesday came 
around the witnesses were all in attend- 
ance, and court having been called to 
order, Sheriff Sanderson appeared at the 
bar with the prisoner, Ankerstrom, who 
the day before had been brought from 
the jail at Coopertown. The attorney- 
general called upon the fellow to hold 
up his right hand, which command the 
sheriff finally induced him to obey. The 
indictment was a lengthy one for the 
state's officer was a stickler for old forms 
and phrases and was read in clear and 
deliberate tones, so that the whole court- 
room might hear. It charged, after the 
caption, that in the county and state 
aforesaid, and upon a certain day in 
June, Johan Ankerstrom, alias Dutch 
Ankers, alias Cross-eyed Jack, alias the 
Flying Dutchman, did wilfully, unlaw- 
fully, feloniously, deliberately, premed- 
itatedly, and with his malice afore- 
thought, assault Mrs. Susan Bascombe, 
of the county and state aforesaid, with a 
deadly weapon, to-wit, an ax. And with 
said ax the said Johan Ankerstrom, alias 
Dutch Ankers, alias Cross-eyed Jack, 
alias the Flying Dutchman, not having 
the fear of God before his eyes, and be- 
ing moved and instigated by the devil, 
did strike and inflict divers and sundry 



grievous and mortal wounds upon the 
body of the said Mrs. Susan Bascombe, 
of which grievous and mortal wounds the 
said Mrs. Susan Basombe did languish 
until the day following, to-wit: June , 
and on that day languishing she did die 
of said wound. Wherefore (the docu- 
ment went on to allege), we, the grand 
jurors for the state and county afore- 
said, being duly elected, impaneled and 
sworn upon our oaths the truth to speak, 
do present and say that Johan Anker- 
strom, alias Dutch Ankers, alias Cross- 
eyed Jack, alias the Flying Dutchman, 
did wilfully, unlawfully, feloniously, de- 
liberately, premeditatedly, and with his 
malice aforethought, kill and murder the 
said Mrs. Susan Bascombe, in the county 
and state aforesaid, contrary to the form 
of the statute in such cases made and 
provided, and against the peace and dig- 
nity of the state. 

"Are you guilty or not guilty?" in- 
quired the state's officer when he had 
finished reading the lengthy accusation. 

Ankerstrom scowled upon him and 
made no reply. He either did not fully 
understand the purport of what he had 
heard, or he made believe not to under- 
stand it. 

"If the court please," said a young 
attorney who had been assigned to de- 
fend the prisoner, "we enter a plea of 
not guilty here." 

"Very good," said the judge. "Let 
the clerk record this upon the minutes. 
Is the state ready to proceed with the 
trial of this cause?" 

Bob Lee Tempeton, forgetful of the 
proprieties of the place, was about to 
arise and assure the court that the pros- 
ecution was ready, but the attorney-gen- 
eral forestalled him. He informed the 
court, in deliberate tones, that the state 
wished to at once enter upon the trial of 
the cause. 

"Is the defendant ready?" inquired 
the judge, addressing himself to the 
young attorney who had been assigned 
to look after the prisoner's interests. 

The young attorney here went over, 
and seating himself beside his client, 
sought in a hurried conversation to ob- 
tain some facts bearing on the issue 
about to be raised. While he was thus 
engaged Lawyer Palaver entered the 
court-room, bearing in his right hand a 
suspicious-looking black satchel contain- 
ing papers weighty in the law, and con- 
taining also, tucked away snugly at the 
bottom, a neat little flask of strong waters. 
He always carried this satchel about with 
him, and, the general impression 'was, 
would have been as utterly helpless with- 
out it as Samson with his head shaved. 
He now looked all about him and. with- 
drawing his gloves deposited these, with 
his satchel and cane, upon the table by 
which he stood. When he had done 
this, observing that there was a lull in 
the court-room, he addressed himself to 
his honor upon the bench. 

"If the court please," said Lawyer 
Palaver, "I have just learned that a 
client of mine, one Johan Ankerstrom, 
has been indicted here upon a very grave 
charge, and I rise to ask that his trial be 
set for some day of the next term, so 
that both sides may then be in readi- 
ness to proceed with the investigation." 

The attorney-general here mumbled 
out something about being needed in 
the grand jury room, and hastily with- 
drew from the presence of the court. 

"Why," said the judge to Palaver, 
"we have that very case up now, and I 
was about to order the jury to be sworn." 

'"What!" cried Palaver in astonish- 
ment. "I ah perhaps I did not 
understand your Honor." 

"The state has announced ready," 
said the judge, "and the case was about 
to go to trial when you came in." 

"Go to trial go to trial?" repeated 
Palaver. "The attorney-general has an- 
nounced ready, does your Honor say? 
Why, sir, was the like ever heard in the 
court-house before? My man is here on 
trial for his life. He is a foreigner, and 
can hardly speak the language. He has 

"// fbe Court please," said Lawyer Palaver 

Sketch by M. L. Blumenthal 



not had a minute's time for preparation 

"Why," said Mr. Bob Lee Templeton, 
interrupting him, "this man has been in 
jail, if the court please.for three months. 
He certainly has had abundant time to 
prepare his case, and the witnesses we 
have brought here will tell the whole 
story, as the gentleman will find further 
along when we get into the evidence.' ' 

Palaver turned and regarded the 
speaker, first severely and then inquir- 
ingly. "I do not know this young gen- 
tleman, but I suppose, of course, he is 
one of the counsel in the cause." Mr. 
Templeton 's abashed look showing too 
plainly that he was not one of the counsel 
in the cause, the lawyer continued: "I 
move you, sir," addressing the judge, 
"that this young man produce his license 
before the clerk and be sworn in as 
one of the practicing attorneys at this 

This caused a broad smile to spread 
itself over the court-room, and, looking 
about him, Templeton was pained to 
observe Miss Sue Bascombe, who was 
present as one of the witnesses, biting 
her lip to suppress an inclination to 
laugh. This added manifestly to his 
discomfiture, for all nice young men 
have their share of vanity, and nobody 
likes to be laughed at. 

"Where's the attorney -general," in- 
quired the judge, in reponse to Palaver's 
request. "He ought to be here looking 
after this case. Go fetch him at once, 
Mr. Sheriff." 

The sheriff promply retired in quest of 
the state's officer, and Templeton follow- 
ed him out into the hall. When the 
attorney-general presently emerged from 
the grand jury room the young man 
halted him and took up a few moments 
of his valuable time. 

"I say," remarked Templeton to the 
busy official, "one moment, one moment, 
if you please. There's an old man in 
the other room trying to put off our case. 
It will never do; never in the world, I 

tell you. It's been three months since 
Ankerstrom killed the old woman, and 
the folks in that country are getting 
dreadfully impatient. Their opinion of 
the law is none too good now, and if this 
case is put off there is no telling what 
they will do or say. So do you go right 
in and head this old man off. He's talk- 
ing wild, saying he hasn't had time to 
get his case ready, and I'm afraid he'll 
deceive the judge." 

"I'll fix him," responded the state's 
officer, tearing himself from the young 
gentleman and hastily entering the court- 
room. Once in the presence of the 
judge, and informed of Palaver's appli- 
cation to postpone the trial, he began a 
rather vehement address, which ap- 
parently was intended more for the by- , 
slanders than the court. He had pro- 
ceeded but a little way before Palaver 
arose and politely interrupted him. 

"If your honor please," said Palaver 
to the judge, "I would like, with the 
permission of the court, to prepare an 

"Certainly," replied the judge. "The 
defendant's counsel has that right." 

The attorney-general then sat down 
and fell a-chatting pleasantly with some 
of the lawyers about him. Palaver with- 
drew, with a stub pen, ink bottle and 
several quires of paper. He was great 
on affidavits; indeed, I may say, that 
was his specialty, and no lawyer had ever 
been known in his section who could 
cram more statements into a document 
for his client to swear to. Having con- 
sumed less time than usual in the prep- 
aration of his paper, he after a bit 
returned into the court-room with a 
very confident* air about him. The 
affidavit, verified by Ankerstrom on 
oath, alleged the undisputed fact that the 
indictment against the prisoner had been 
brought in by the grand jury then in 
session, that it charged murder in the 
first degree and then the further allega- 
tion was made that owing to excitement 
in the public mind the accused could 

THE K. K. K. 


not safely go to trial at that term of the 

"That is sufficient," cried the judge 
from the bench as soon as the paper was 
read. "No use to waste more words 
about it. It is well enough settled in 
Tennessee that a defendant cannot be 
forced to a hearing at the term in which 
the indictment against him is found, 
where the indictment charges murder 
and he files an affidavit stating that owing 
to excitement in the public mind he can- 
not safely go to trial. To hold otherwise 
would be reversible error on the part of 
this court, and the case must go over till 
the next term." 

This ruling excited no sort of surprise 
on the part of the attorneys present. 
The attorney-general looked up at the 
judge and nodded gravely his endorse- 
ment of the action of the court. Palaver 
sat down by his cane and hand-bag, 
crossed his legs, shook his foot, and 
assumed the air of a wise man who knew 
very well in advance what was going to 
happen. The fact was he had not 
bothered himself at all with prepara- 
tions for the defense, and had nothing 
whatever in his black satchel bearing 
on the Ankerstrom case. 

As the lawyers and other gentlemen 
wended their way toward the hotel at the 
noon recess, Mr. Bob Lee Templeton 
overheard a conversation that made his 
ears tingle. 

Palaver, to the attorney-general, who 
was walking by his side: "What smart 
young chap was that, Whackemall, who 
put in his mouth this morning while I 
was addressing the court?" 

Attorney-general: "Templeton is his 
name. He is taking a good deal of in- 
terest in the Ankerstrom case." 

Palaver: "Any kin to the old woman 
who got killed?" 

Attorney-general: "None that I know 
of. None at all, I believe." 

Palaver: 'What's he got to do with it 

Attorney -general: "That I can't just 

make out. I think he's in love with that 
black-eyed girl you saw in the court- 
room. She's the old woman's grand- 

Palaver: "Ah, that explains it. I 
saw him turn red this morning when he 
looked at her, and wondered what the 
hell he was blushing about. So it was 
at his instance you made that nonsensical 
talk opposing my application for a con- 

Attorney-general: "Yes; he urged me 
to do it, and I just spoke to oblige him." 

Palaver: "Ah, I see, I see. Right 
embarrassing sometimes to have a 
damned fool for a client." 

Mr. Bob Lee Templeton here slack- 
ened his pace, so as to allow those ahead 
to increase the distance between them. 
He was on his way to the tavern to get 
dinner, but he changed his mind and 
took a notion to stroll round town before 
proceeding to the hostelry. As he strolled 
he came in contact with a good many 
witnesses that had been brought to court 
to testify in the Ankerstrom case. They 
scowled at him and indulged in uncom- 
plimentary remarks as he passed. 

"That's the smart Aleck," said one, 
"who had a private understanding with 
the attorney-general." 

"His head will be gray before that 
understanding is carried out," retorted 

"The next time we catch a red-handed 
murderer I hope we'll have sense enough 
to hang him up, without listening to any 
smooth talk from such palavering chps 
as him," proclaimed a third. 

Mr. Templeton strolled on. He took 
a side street where nothing harassing 
would be likely to occur, and where he 
could make serious effort to get a hold 
upon himself. When, an hour or so 
later,he seated himself at the hotel table, 
he was outwardly calm, but his appetite 
had deserted him. He found, moreover, 
upon self-interrogation, that a good deal 
of his veneration for the law had departed 
with his appetite. 




THAT afternoon as those who had been 

summoned in the Ankerstrom case 
journeyed homeward from the town, 
some were merry and some were mad. 
Templeton was of the company, and for 
a short distance he rode by the side of 
Miss Sue Bascombe, who, having made 
her second trip to court, considered 
herself pretty well posted now as to 
the legal methods of transacting busi- 

"Law is a great profession, Mr. Tem- 
pleton," remarked the young lady as the 
horse that bore her jogged along at a 
steady gait toward the place of her 
abode, "and I wonder they don't have 
more female attorneys in the country. It 
seems to me to be a profession much 
better adapted to women than to men, 

"How is that?" inquired Mr. Tem- 

"Oh, they talk so much," replied the 
young lady, "and it all amounts in the 
end to so little." 

Miss Bascombe was inclined to be sar- 
castic, but Templeton accepted her ob- 
servations seriously. "That's a fact," 
he answered rather sullenly. 

"It's all talk and no cider, as we say 
in the country," continued the young 
lady. "The judge has his say, the law- 
yers have their say, and now and then 
an outsider puts in and tries to have his 
say. I think you made a little experi- 
ment in that direction this morning, 
didn't you, Mr. Templeton?" 

"Yes," replied the gentleman addres- 
sed, "but it didn't help me, or the cause 
of justice, either." 

"Of course not, of course not. You 
didn't seem to have many friends among 
them, and as for the cause of justice, I 

don't suppose that was on anybody's 
mind at all." 

"I'm inclined to agree with you," re- 
plied the young gentleman gloomily. 

"Well," pursued the young lady cheer- 
fully, "next January I reckon they'll 
go to the court-house again, and talk 
some more and send us all back home 
again with nothing done." 

"Shouldn't wonder," replied Mr. 

"It will be fun, though. Splashing 
through the mud and rain a matter of 
twenty miles in mid-Winter will be jolly. 
Nobody could grumble at that. " 

"I suppose not," replied Mr. Temple- 

"The lawyers, though, don't splash 
through rain and mud to any alarming 
extent. All they have to do is to stand 
up in the court-room and talk. That's 
what makes me say law is such a delight- 
ful profession." 

"And that's what makes me say," 
answered Templeton bitterly, "that it's 
a humbug." 

"A what?" 

"A farce. A miserable contrivance for 
defeating the ends of justice. 

"Why, my goodness," replied the 
young lady, "I thought, Mr. Temple- 
ton, you were on the side of the law. 
You speak like some of these outrageous 
Marrowbone people, so you do." 

"I feel as indignant as any of the 
Marrowbone people could feel. Some 
steps must be taken in this community 
by which scoundrels can be brought to 

"Do you think so?" She spoke in a 
graver tone than she had used before. 

"Indeed I do think so. The admin- 
istration of justice seems to be hampered 

THE K. K. K. 


in the courts by antiquated rules that may 
have suited other people differently sit- 
uated, but are not adapted at all to the 
condition in which we find ourselves 
today. Criminals should be punished, 
and that without unreasonable delay. 
Honest men and women are entitled to 
protection. The law as now admin- 
istered affords great encouragement to 

"Teddy Mclntosh couldn't say worse 
than that." 

"He wouldn't tell the truth if he said 

"You seem to be in real earnest, Mr. 
Tern pie ton." 

"Indeed I am." 

She hummed a little tune to herself a 
few moments and then she addressed 
him abruptly. 

"Why don't you join the Klu Klux?" 

"What's that?" 

"As if you didn't know." 

He tried to get up a laugh, but failed. 
"I'm more than half in the humor," he 
replied gravely. 

"When you're altogether in the humor 
let me know." 

"What have you to do with it ?" 

"Nothing at all." 

"If you had I'd ask you to hand in my 
name at the next meeting as a candidate 
for admission to the order." 

"You said just now you were only half 
in earnest." 

"I'm in dead earnest now." 

"Honor bright?" 

"Honor bright." 

The two were proceeding along the 
highway by themselves, though there 
were others at a short distance in front 
and rear of them. Among these was the 
youth called Teddy Mclntosh, who was 
about fifty yards in front. 

"Ha-ha-hal" laughed Miss Bascombe 
in a very natural way, though nothing 
had occurred, that Mr. Templeton knew 
of, to excite her mirth. 

Teddy glanced back over his shoulder, 
and she raised her right hand above her 

head for a moment, with three fingers 
extended, the others closed. It was a 
careless gesture, and would have attract- 
ed no special attention if one had ob- 
served it. Mr. Mclntosh did not in- 
stantly quit his companion but in a little 
while dropped back and joined the young 
lady and Templeton. 

"Teddy," said Miss Sue Bascombe in 
a calm, matter-of-fact way, "Mr. Tem- 
pleton has business tonight over on Dead 
Man's Knob,, and he doesn't know the 
way. Won't you be kind enough to take 
him there?" 

"Why, for sure," answered Teddy. 
"I'll be glad to show him the road." 

Then there was pleasant chat of indis- 
criminate kind, and before a great while 
the young lady bade them good-by, and 
leaving the main highway took a less fre- 
quented route that led to her home. 
Teddy Mclntosh now took charge of 
Templeton, and escorted him to the 
house of a friend, where they supped and 
rested their horses. 

About ten o'clock at night the two men 
mounted again and rode off together. 
No questions were asked as to their pro- 
posed destination by the discreet mem- 
bers of the household, and no informa- 
tion on the subject was volunteered by 
th ->. equally discreet Mr. Mclntosh. The 
two men rode off together and for some 
time rode in silence. 

"Miss Sue is all sorts of a girl," said 
Mr. Mclntosh, breaking silence after a 

Not fully understanding whether this 
was a compliment or the reverse, Tem- 
pleton did not reply. 

"She's all sorts of a girl," Mr. Mc- 
lntosh continued. "I've been knowing 
her ever since we were both little chil- 
dren, and I don't know her yet. Now 
and then she's funny and frolicsome 
just like other girls. It isn't very often, 
though, you catch her in that sort of 
humor, and when you do it's more than 
half put on. As a general thing she 
takes after her granny, and her granny 



had more grit than half a dozen common 

"Does she really belong to the Klu 
Klux Klan?" Templeton ventured to in- 

"How's that?" answered Teddy as if 
he hadn't heard. 

"Is she a member of this order she 
was speaking of?" 

"Oh, I dunno. Maybe she is, maybe 
she ain't. There's just no tellling. You 
never can catch up with her, you see." 

This was all the answer Mr. Temple- 
ton received to a question he had pro- 
pounded to himself several times in the 
past few hours without being able to 
frame in his own mind a satisfactory 

Traveling for about an hour the two 
young men came to a conical hill rising 
abruptly from the surrounding valley and 
a short distance off from the wayside. 
There are many such in that part of the 
country, but this was more rugged than 
the rest, and had an evil reputation from 
the fact that at a time prior to the Civil 
war a stranger had been enticed to the 
spot and murdered for his money. At 
the foot of this they dismounted, and 
proceeding Indian file along a narrow 
path they climbed it slowly, each leading 
his horse. They had not gone far in this 
manner before a man in front blocked 
the way. This individual said nothing, 
and made no demonstration, but stood 
stock still until Mclntosh, who was in the 
the lead,came close to him and extended 
his hand. The sentinel reached forth 
his own, and after a friendly grasp 
stepped aside and allowed the two men 
to proceed. He had no weapons or 
Templeton saw none as he brushed by 
him though standing here as an outpost 
he could scarcely have expected, un- 
armed and unaided, to be able to repel 

Pursuing their way the two young men, 
after going a short distance, turned aside 
and hitched their horses in a thick clamp 
of trees, where they saw others standing. 

Here they began a precipitous ascent, 
up which a horse, however sure-footed, 
could hardly have clambered. A little 
further on they were halted by a second 
sentinel, who again said nothing but 
stood in the way till Mclntosh had ad- 
vanced and clasped hands with him. 
Next they reached a level strip of earth 
on which stunted cedars grew so thick as 
to make a passage throngh it almost im- 
possible. Skirting this by a circular 
path they reached a perpendicular bluff 
of rock, with a small open space between 
it and the thicket. Here they came 
upon a group of men sitting side by side 
upon the ground, their line forming a 
rough circle of about twenty feet in diam- 
eter. Each of these, Templeton noticed, 
wore a tall black cap, and his figure was 
shrouded in a mantle of the same somber 
hue. Not far from the center of the 
circle sat one with a tall white cap and 
wrapped in a white garment. On either 
side of him was a figure robed in black, 
as were those of the outer circle. 

Teddy Mclntosh advanced into the 
middle of the group and faced the chief 
figure robed in white. Behind him came 
Templeton, and as they reached the cen- 
ter of the circle he faced and stood front- 
ing the white-robed figure. Perfect 
silence was maintained by all present. 
Each member of the circle sat on the 
earth with his head bowed and nothing 
on the part of any of them indicated 
a consciousness that strangers were 

"Majestical Grand Cyclops," pro- 
claimed Teddy Mclntosh, addressing the 
central figure, "this mortal desires ad- 
mission into our mystic brotherhood." 

No response at all was elicted by this 
announcement, but all sat on the earth 
as before with their heads bowed. 

"Majestical Grand Cyclops," repeat- 
ed Mclntosh, "this mortal desires admis- 
sion into our mystic brotherhood." 

Then all at once arose and stood in 
silence around the circle. Templeton 
was astonished to find that the central 

THE K. K. K. 


figure, though apparently that of a thin 
person, was not much less than ten feet 
high. The long white cap added a good 
deal to the stature of this individual, 
but making due allowance for this he was 
undoubtedly the tallest person the young 
man had ever seen. His face was 
muffled, and his features could be but 
dimly discerned by the starlight that 
alone lessened the surrounding obscurity. 

"Majestical Grand Cyclops," pro- 
claimed Teddy Mclntosh for the third 
time, "this mortal desires admission into 
our mystic brotherhood." 

At this moment someone, whose ap- 
proach had not been detected, stole 
softly up behind Templeton and blind- 
folded him. When this had been ac- 
complished the tall figure in white for the 
first time vouchsafed a reply. He asked 
many questions of searching nature re- 
garding the character and qualifications 
of the candidate, all of which were 
answered in a complimentary manner by 
Mclntosh, who acted as sponsor. Then 
the Grand Cyclops inquired of the klan: 

"Does any one present know of a 
reason why this mortal should not be re- 
ceived as a member of our mystic 

A silence of some moments followed 
this inquiry. Then the command came 
in solemn tones: 

"Mortal, kneel." 

Without hesitation Templeton obeyed. 

"Raise your right hand to heaven." 

He did so. 

"Repeat after me now the solemn 
obligation which every member of this 
mystic order is required to take." 

The speaker here proceeded slowly 
and distinctly, and Templeton repeated 
after him: 

"I, Robert Lee Templeton, of my own 
free will and accord, and in the pres- 
ence of these comrades, and of the 
ruler of the universe, do here register 
my sacred oath that I will never reveal 
to anyone not a member of this brother- 
hood any of the signs, grips or pass- 

words that may hereafter be imparted 
to me. That I will never reveal to those 
not members of this brotherhood the 
fact that I know of its existence, or 
that I, or any other individual, is con- 
nected with it. I here register my 
sacred oath that I will never let the true 
name of the order, which I am soon to 
receive, pass my lips, though none but 
a brother be nigh. I here register my 
sacred oath that I will promptly obey all 
the decrees of the brotherhood, when not 
inconsistent with the laws of the land, 
and should I at any time prove faithless 
to the obligation I have here assumed I 
invite on my head the awful penalty that 
will then be my due." 

"Mortal, rise," was the command 
after the oath had been taken. 

Templeton rose to his feet and stood 
blindfolded before them. Someone 
now drew near and threw a mantle over 
his shoulders, placing at the same time 
a cap on his head which he supposed 
to be similar to those worn by others 
about him. 

"Advance, mortal, brothers, and give 
to this mortal the secret grip of the 
order, in token of the fact that you 
greet him as a member of this brother- 

One by one those about him came for- 
ward, and each, extending his own right 
hand, took that of Templeton. As the 
grip was given, the forefinger of each in 
turn was extended until the tip of it 
rested on the wrist of Templeton, about 
the point where the pulse is usually felt. 
A gentle pressure was given, once, twice, 
thrice, and the individual extending 
passed on. Lastly the tall individual 
who had been spokesman during, the 
ceremony came forward and took the 
candidate by the hand. He stretched 
out his long forefinger and allowed it 
to rest on Templeton' s wrist. 

"Mortal," he said, "you are now 
about to attach yourself to this mystic 
order whose members never assemble 
until after the sun goes down, whose true 



name may not be uttered even among 
themselves,.but which is known to the 
vulgar as the Klu Klux Klan." 

The speaker pronounced each of these 
syllables he pressed his forefinger by 
way of emphasis on the wrist of Tem- 

"Turn thy right ear," he now said, 
"and I will deliver to thee in private the 
true name of this mystic order." 

Templeton obeyed, and the speaker, 
stooping low, whispered softly in his ear 
a word of several syllables, which Tem- 
pleton had never heard before, and which 
was in a strange language and pronoun- 
ced so indistinctly he was not sure he 
caught the sounds aright. 

"I greet you now as a brother," con- 
tinued the tall man, addresing him once 
more aloud, "and remember that where- 
ever you- go you may make your clan- 
ship known by the sign of the three If 
you would draw one of the order to 
your side, first call his attention by an 
innocent sound, then raise the right 
hand quickly with the thumb and little 
finger closed, the other three fingers 
extended and separated. If you would 
greet a brother or make yourself known 
to one who is a stranger, give him your 
right hand and press three times dis- 
tinctly but lightly on the pulse of his 
right arm. Brother, for we count you 
stranger no longer, we bid you thrice 
welcome as a member of this mystic 
clan. When the brotherhood has once 
more extended greeting you will with- 
draw beyond the confines of our circle, 
but you may reenter unaided if you 
can give the sentinel the grip of the 
order and whisper in his ear the counter- 
sign for the night, which I will now im- 
part to you." 

The tall master of ceremonies once 
more stooped and whispered in 
the ear of Templeton the password 
which had been adopted for the 
night. The syllables were easily 
caught and not difficult to remember, 
for ite countersign as imparted to 

him in confidence was "Sue Bascombe." 
The bandage was now removed from 
his eyes, and he saw the tall man still 
standing, with a figure robed in black on 
each side, as at the beginning of the 
ceremony. One by one the black-robed 
figures that composed the circle left their 
places and greeted him with a grasp of 
the hand and a significant pressure of 
the forefinger thrice repeated upon his 
wrist. He observed in the dim starlight 
that each of these had three large 
white letters, K. K. K., upon the 
breast of his gown, and looking down 
he saw that he himself was robed in 
black, and that the same letters were 
inscribed upon his breast. When his 
brother members had a second time 
greeted him he was a second time 
blindfolded, his cap and robes were taken 
from him, and he was led away to a 
spot some distance off. Here his sight 
was restored and there was none with 
him but Teddy Mclntosh, clad in his 
ordinary garb. 

"You may now follow me," said 
Teddy, "and we will go back into the 
circle. You must not press too close 
upon me, however, and when I have 
passed the sentinel you must approach 
him alone, give him the grip and whis- 
per in his ear the password you have 
just received from the Grand Cyclops." 
Obeying this instruction literally, 
Templeton passed the outpost without 
difficulty, and following his guide soon 
reached the group of persons he had left 
assembled in the open space between 
the cedar thicket and the foot of the 
bluff. Each was clad in ordinary attire, 
and they were sitting or lying about at 
will on the ground, giving heed to some 
one who, though standing, was address- 
ing them in a low, conversational tone. 
Templeton seated himself without for- 
mality in the outskirt of the group, and 
soon discovered that the individual 
speaking was a farmer whom he had 
met that day at the court-house. His 
manner was hesitating, showing that he 

THE K. K. K. 


was not accustomed to facing an audi- 
ence, and the attention given his utter- 
ances was not very flattering. He was 
several times interrupted, and the meet- 
ing bade fair to become a little disorderly, 
when a tall young man who had been 
sitting on a flat stone arose and in 
measured tones commanded the assem- 
blage to be quiet and give heed to the 

"That's Jim Blankenship," whispered 
Mclntosh to Templeton, when the tall 
youth had taken his seat. "He's the 
best one in the deck. He takes every- 
thing in dead hard earnest, and you can 
see by his figger that he's cut out for a 
Grand Cyclops." Templeton had no 
difficulty in recognizing the deep voice 
as that of the slender individual who had 
addressed him while he stood in the 
midst of the clan blindfolded. "He's a 
pretty tall chap still," he replied in an 
undertone to Teddy Mclntosh, "but he's 
shrunk a good deal in stature in the last 
fifteen minutes." 

"Oh, that was in the make-up, you 
know," rejoined Teddy. "It's with us 
as it is with the gals. A heap depends 
on the make-up." 

While this whispered conversation 
was going on, the farmer, a level-headed 
fellow, stumbled along in his talk. 

"I think it's too soon for us to inter- 
fere in this matter, though I know many 
of our members, and nearly all outsiders, 
favor immediate action. The man will 
certainly be convicted whenever his case 
does get to the jury, and we'd better 
wait as long as there is a chance to have 
him legally punished. It was hasty 
counsel that led to the hanging of Sandy 
Kinchen, and if we err at all now we 
ought to err on the side of prudence 
and caution." 

The speaker held the floor, or rather 
the ground on which he stood, for ten 
or fifteen minutes. Random discussion 
followed his speech, and it was evident 
the clan had under consideration a pro- 
position to take the case of the State 

versus Ankerstrom into their own hands. 
There seemed to be many minds on the 
subject, and it was hard to tell how the 
assemblage stood, when our friend 
Teddy Mclntosh rose and favored those 
present with his views. His eloquence 
flowed in a torrent, and he spoke his 
mind with a directness that left no 
room for misunderstanding. 

"Now here, gentlemen hobgoblins," 
he began, "I'd go as far as the next man 
on the road to caution and prudence and 
that sort of thing; but it does seem to 
me, if we're going to take a hand in this 
game, that now is the accepted time. 
Talk about the hanging of Sandy Kin- 
chen being a rash proceeding! So it 
was, gentlemen hobgoblins, but who's 
responsible for it? Why, this here same 
infernal devil that brained old Granny 
Bascombe with a chopping-ax. Nobody 
but him, as I could prove before our 
Dreadful Ulema right now, if it was in 
order for me to do so. Ain't he respon- 
sible for the hanging of Sandy Kinchen? 
Didn't I see him hit that old gray horse 
as hard as ever he could? And didn't I 
see the old horse jump when he hit 
him? Wasn't it that lick and that jump 
that sent the nigger out of the world be- 
fore you could say Jack Robinson? If 
it wasn't that lick, and that jump, will 
somebody have the kindness to tell 
just what it was that sent the nigger 
out of the world? Now here, fellow 
citizens and hobgoblins, you fellows just 
listen to me a minute. Let's treat this 
cross-eyed Dutchman just like he treated 
Sandy Kinchen. He can't complain of 
that, because we'd be feeding him, so 
to speak, out of his own spoon. I, for 
one. am tired of waiting and of all this 
tomfoolery talk about the courts. I 
know the hobgoblin that spoke last is a 
gentleman, and I indorse all he says in 
a general way, but Cross-eyed Jack ought 
to have been at the devil long ago, and 
we'll be much to blame, in my opinion, 
if we don't send him there just as soon 
as we can lay hands on him. Talk about 



courts, haven't we got a court of our 
own, and what's it for if it can't settle 
the hash of a lowflung Dutchman without 
any more tomfoolery about it? I hope 
the Dreadful Ulema will get down to 
business right now and order this miser- 
able Dutchman brought out of jail, where 
he's eating public vittles and getting fat. 
And I hope the Dreadful Ulema will 
make me one of the party that's to cut 
him off from his rations and fetch him 
here. If so, I will obey this order of 
the Dreadful Ulema, as I obey every 
other order of the Dreadful Ulema, and 
I'll bring a rope along to hang the 
scoundrel just as soon as sentence of 
death has been clapped upon him. So I 
will, fellow citizens and hobgoblins, and 
all of you that know me at all know I 
mean just what I say." With these 
vehement words did Teddy Mclntosh 
free his mind of the burden that had 
been weighing it down, and many of his 
younger friends, when he was through, 
congratulated him upon his effort and 
endorsed his sentiments. 

Randolph Pearson, however, had, 
more than any other one man, {he confi- 
dence of the clan, and he disposed of 
the question at issue in a few words. The 
time had not come, he said, for interfering 
with the due course of law in this matter. 
As yet the clan could not even afford to 
gravely consider such a proposition. 
There had been but a single continuance 
of the case, and they could never justify 
themselves if, exasperated by this slight 
delay, they sought now by violent means 
to take the accused from the proper 
authorities and dispose of him them- 
selves. He admitted that any delay in 
the punishment of so heinous an offender 
was discouraging. He hoped the time 
would come in Tennessee when in every 
county some judicial tribunal would exist 
that could openly try the perpetrator of 
a monstrous crime very soon after its 
commission. Then there would be no 
reason why any good citizen should join 
in a mob or countenance mob law. 

Reckless and lawless persons would still 
resort to such methods, but good citizens, 
having a better method for the redress of 
evils, would frown upon them and mob 
law would no longer be tolerated. Good 
citizens now should strive to amend their 
statutes and as long as it was possible 
uphold the constituted authorities. 
Crime must be punished. Self-preserva- 
tion was the first law of nature, and 
whenever in any very flagrant case there 
was an utter failure of justice through 
the courts, the citizens of that commu- 
nity had the right to protect themselves 
from future outrage by punishing the 
offenders. It certainly could not be said 
now that there was an utter failure of 
justice in the Ankerstom case. At the 
next term there would doubtless be an 
open trial, and the ends of justice would 
be reached without resort to illegal 
methods. The members of the clan 
should see to it that every witness was 
again in place when the case was 
called in January. Till then they must 
possess their souls in patience and do 
all in their power to calm the excite- 
ment and quiet the indignation that 
existed in the public mind. 

When Pearson had finished there was 
a silence of some moments, and then Mr. 
Bob Lee Templeton arose and delivered 
a smooth talk. He said he had been 
very much put out indeed that day in 
court and had expressed himself pretty 
plainly in town, and on the road home. 
He wished to say now, however, that 
after listening to his friend Pearson, and 
turning the matter over in his own mind, 
he was convinced the clan would do well 
to heed the advice just given them. It 
was natural to get mad, and indulge in 
violent talk, but the wise thing to do now 
was to await the further action of the 
court. He had been of different mind 
a few hours before, but then his angry 
passions were aroused. Now he had 
cooled down and heartily endorsed the 
sentiments uttered by Mr. Pearson. 

The Ankerstrom question was thus 

THE K. K. K. 


disposed of without the formality of a 
vote, and the discussion drifted to other 
matters. Many horses and mules had 
been stolen in the vicinity of late and 
it seemed impossible to get on the trail 
of the thieves. Suspicion at first rested 
on the negroes, but it soon became evi- 
dent that a systematic plan was being 
operated by which the animals were 
transported entirely out of the country 
after they were stolen. This precluded 
the idea of the persistent scheme of de- 
predations being entirely the work of 
negroes. If they were engaged in it 
there must be shrewder villains behind 
them, prompting them and reaping in 
the main the fruits of their dishonesty. 
The strangest thing was that immediate 
pursuit, as a rule, did not enable the 
owners of the stolen animals to discover 

which way they went. They disappeared 
entirely, but no man could say how. It 
was also singular that no suspicious 
strangers had been seen lurking about 
in the neighborhood. The discussion 
brought out the fact that an old peddler 
had been lately on several farms selling 
cheap jewelry and such articles, mainly 
to negroes, but there was no reason to 
suspect he had any ulterior design 
beyond the disposal of his shoddy 
wares. ' They resolved, however, to 
have an eye on him, and to keep 
sharp lookout for all strangers and a 
close watch on several negroes in 
the locality, of notoriously bad char- 

Then the clan adjourned without very 
much accomplished, but in better humor, 
on the whole, than when they assembled. 



1UR. Bob Lee Templeton, having devot- 
ed a month or two to the faithful dis- 
charge of his duties at home, concluded 
he had earned a vacation, and that a little 
trip to the Marrowbone Hills would be 
improving to his health, as well as con- 
soling to his feelings. Mounting his 
faithful steed, therefore, he set out one 
fine morning in the late Fall, or early 
Winter, with the intention of drawing 
rein about dark at the residence of Major 
Habersham, which, he had concluded, 
would be a convenient stopping place for 
the night. As to the next stage of his 
journey, whether indeed there would be 
any subsequent stage, was a matter which 
he had not fully decided in his own 

As he pursued his way the air was 
bracing and crisp, the fields were all of 
sober hue from the touch of the frost that 

had dyed them a uniform brown, the 
farm hands were singing at their work as 
they pulled the ears of corn from the tall 
stalks, and all things combined to put 
the young gentleman in an excellent 
humor with himself and the world at 
large. When the noon hour came, 
he stopped and whiled away an hour 
or two with a farmer acquaintance, and 
resuming then his journey, proceeded 
briskly on toward his destination. His 
steed seemed to know there was good 
fodder ahead and quickened its pace so 
decidedly that as twilight approached 
many familiar objects along the road 
informed the rider that he was nearing 
the premises of Major Habersham. The 
days were short now, and night closed in 
early, so that welcome lights from the 
windows greeted him as he rode up to 
the gate. He was forcibly reminded of 



an evening in the preceding June, when, 
nearing the same premises, kindly lights 
from the same windows beamed on him 
invitingly. There was this important 
difference, however, that then it was 
Summer, and the heat required that all 
the windows be raised, while now it was 
frosty Autumn, when the windows must 
be closed and the curtains drawn to 
make things snug and comfortable; and 
this other important difference, that then 
he was a stranger, and now he was an 
intimate acquaintance, on excellent 
terms with all the dwellers on the prem- 
ises, from the house dog up. 

So when Mr. Templeton rode up to 
the gate he dismounted without an invi- 
tation and hitched his horse at the rack 
near by. He then pursued his way 
briskly along the brick pavement that led 
to the house and knocked at the door. 
Not receiving any response he knocked 
again, not quite so softly. Not hearing 
this second summons, he smote the door 
a third time even more vehemently, and 
now it was that answering footsteps were 
heard along the hall floor. He assumed 
without much difficulty a cheerful aspect 
of countenance, and made ready to 
greet a certain young lady whose custom 
it was to appear in person and welcome 
visitors to her father's mansion. When 
the bolt was drawn, however, and the 
door turned upon its hinges, there stood 
before him not the somewhat diminutive 
figure of Miss Polly Habersham, but a 
damsel exceeding her considerable in 
stature, whose face was about the color 
of a ripe Florida orange, and whose 
manners, though a trifle distant, were 

When the damsel above mentioned 
had thrown wide the hall door and be- 
held Mr. Templeton standing without, 
she bowed gracefully and smiled conde- 
scendingly. Mr. Bob Lee Templeton, 
however, was a friendly fellow per- 
haps a little too much inclined to be 
familiar on short acquaintance and so 
he called heartily out when he saw 

the orange-colored maiden before him: 
"Hello, Matilda, where's the folks?" 
"They aren't here," answered Miss 
Matilda, accompanying her reply with a 
second obeisance. 

"No one at all," repiled the hand- 
maiden with a decided accent on the last 
syllable. "That is to say, sir, there 
isn't any person here that belongs here." 
"That's the dickens," said Mr. Bob 
Lee Templeton, as he pushed by her and 
entered the hall. Then he stood and 
looked about him as if uncertain what 
to do next. 

"They've all gone to Nashville, to 
consult a physician about Mrs. Haber- 
sham, I think, sir." 

"Is she worse?" inquired the visitor, 
when the polite hand-maiden had volun- 
teered this informtion. 

"We cannot say she's worse, sir, and 
yet we cannot say, upon the other hand, 
that she's any better, sir." 

Mr. Templeton stroked his chin, which 
was beardless, and made no reply. 

"We have fears of her, sir," contin- 
ued Matilda, "and we have hopes of 

"That's the dickens," said Mr. Bob 
Lee Templeton. 

"It is indeed," replied Matilda. 
"Can you give me a drink of water?" 
inquired Mr. Bob Lee Templeton. 
"Indeed I can, sir," replied Matilda. 
Mr. Templeton drank the water and 
next inquired: 

"Can you give me a strong cup of 
coffee, Matilda, and some bread and but- 
ter, and two or three slices of ham and 
any little jimcracks that may come 
handy? I'm as hungry as a wolf." 
"Indeed I can, sir," replied Matildia. 
"And say, Matilda, you haven't said 
when the folks are coming back." 

"About the middle of next week, sir," 
replied Matilda. 

"That's the devil," said Mr. Bob Lee 

"So it is, sir," replied Matilda. 

K. K. K. 


Mr. Bob Lee Templeton went into the 
parlor, which was a very snug parlor as a 
usual thing, but looked quite dull and 
comfortless now. He made believe to 
read a book for a few minutes, and fin- 
gered the keys of the piano for a few min- 
utes, though he couldn't strike a tune. 
Then he flung himself down on the sofa 
and was lying there outstretched when 
Matilda summoned him to sustenance. 

Mr. Templeton did full duty to the re- 
past, and when he had nourished himself 

oh, yes indeed, sir; of course, sir," re- 
plied Matilda in some confusion. "We 
will see to it, Mr. Templeton, that you 
have the same room." 

"If there's any trouble about it, Ma- 
tilda " 

"There isn't any trouble about it at 
all, sir," replied Matilda. "There isn't 
the least trouble in the world about it, 
sir, only, sir, there's another person in 
the room." 

"Another person in the room?" said 

"Quite an entertaining old gentleman" 

Sketch by M. L. Blumenthal 

sufficiently he again addressed the hand- Mr. Templeton in some astonishment, 
maiden. "Yes indeed, sir; so there is, sir. A 

"I suppose I take the usual room up- very nice old gentleman in the room." 
stairs, Matilda?" "Why, I thought you said there was 

"Yes, sir; yes, sir; that is to say, sir; nobody at home?" 



"There is no one at home, Mr. Tem- 
pleton," replied Matilda, evidently labor- 
ing under some embarrassment. "That 
is, sir, no one that belongs here, sir; 
none of the family, sir. And you know 
the rules of the house, Mr. Templeton; 
and you know how very strictly I always 
adhere to the rules of the house when the 
establishment is left in my charge; but, 
sir, this is such a nice old gentleman, and 
such a pious old gentleman, and such a 
well-behaved old gentleman in every way 
that I thought it right to let him stay all 
night, and I thought it right to put him 
in our nicest bed-room." 

''What's his name?" 

"That I cannot tell you, sir, because 
it's a foreign name, and it will take a 
foreigner to pronounce it. But he was 
a good Christian man among the Turks, 
I think he called the people, and they 
used him very badly, and killed about 
half his family, and he's now selling 
bibles to get money to bring the other 
half over here, sir. He's a very nice old 
gentleman, sir, and a very pious old 
gentleman, and has very agreeable man- 

"Has he gone to bed?" 

"No, sir, he's just gone out to walk a 
little and muse," said Matilda tenderly, 
"upon his melancholy situation. He'll 
be back presently." 

"Well, Matilda," replied Mr. Bob 
Lee Templeton, being a whole-souled 
sort of a fellow, "you did quite right to 
take this unfortunate stranger in and to 
give him the best room in the house. 
As for me, you can stick me anywheres. 
I shall sit up until the old gentleman 
comes back, and have a talk with him. 
I've no doubt I shall be highly enter- 
tained; for I have long wished to know 
something of the Christians in Turkey." 

After so long a time the old gentleman 
came in, having consumed an hour or so 
in strolling about over the premises, 
musing upon his melancholy situation 
and smoking his pipe. He soon proved 
himself to be quite an entertaining old 

gentleman, and succeeded in making 
himself understood more readily than 
Mr. Templeton expected, seeing he was 
but recently over from a foreign country. 
His gestures were as eloquent and sig- 
nificant as those of a deaf and dumb 
man, and he had picked up a few words 
of English with which to supplement 
these when it was necessary to make ou* 
the sense. Altogether, the little old man 
managed to convey his meaning clearly 
enough, and what with motions of the 
hands, scraps of language, and express- 
ive changes of countenance, he told a 
tale that aroused the compassion of the 
sympathetic Mr. Templeton, as it had 
previously done that of Matilda, the 
housemaid. Such atrocities as the cruel 
Turks perpetrated upon good Christians 
in the land beyond the seas Mr. Temple- 
ton would hardly have conceived possible 
and indeed would not have credited if 
the story had been told by other than an 
eye-witness, and a very earnest and 
truthful eye-witness at that, such as the 
old gentleman undoubtedly was. When 
the old man, somewhat wearied for he 
had come afoot retired to his room, 
Mr. Templeton meditated a while by the 
fire, and then addressed the housemaid 
as she was passing. 

"That's a nice old man, Matilda." 

"It is indeed, sir," replied Matilda. 

"He has seen sights in his time." 

"He has indeed, sir," replied Matilda. 

"How many bibles did you subscribe 
for, Matilda?" 

"Only one, sir," replied Matilda. 

"Put me down for five,' ' said Mr. Tem- 
pleton . 

"Indeed I will, sir," replied Matikia 
effusively. "For if ever there was a 
nice old gentleman, as you say, sir, I 
think sir, it's this old gentleman. And 
if ever there was an old gentleman, sir, 
which has had calamities befall him, I'm 
quite sure, sir, it's this old gentleman. 
I'll go upstairs right now and tap at his 
door and tell him to put you down for 
five. The money is not to be paid until 


he comes back with the bibles, which 
shows to my mind that he is a very 
honest, straightforward sort of a person.' ' 

"It does indeed," cried Mr. Temple- 
ton." "It speaks well for him." 

"Such misfortunes, sir, as have come 
upon the old gentleman!" continued Ma- 
tilda. "Why, sir, it's enough to make 
a person's blood boil to hear him tell of 
the troubles he has seen through those 
heathen Turks. " 

"Sho-nuff, Matilda?" ejaculated Mr. 
Templeton . 

"Yes indeed, Mr. Templeton, su-r-r-e 
enough," replied Matilda, rolling the 
"r" over her tongue as genteel folks in- 
variably do. "And to think, sir, of the 
great sorrow that's weighing him down 
on account of having members of his own 
family still over there at the mercy, as 
one might say, of those heathen Turks! 
Did you say five, sir?" 

"Six," responded Mr. Templeton 

"And say to the old gentleman, Ma- 
tilda, that the binding may be of his own 

"Oh, sir, that is kind." 

"And say, Matilda." 

"Yes, sir." 

"The old gentleman, you tell me, came 
afoot, and is no doubt a little short of 
funds, Hand him this ten-dollar bill, 
Matilda, with my compliments, and re- 
quest him to place the amount as a credit 
upon my subscription." 

"Oh, thank you, indeed," replied Ma- 
tilda, bowing. "Oh, that is very nice of 
you, I'm su-r-re. The good Lord will 
be certain to reward you for your noble 
behavior, and I'll not forget, sir, to 
mention the matter to Miss Marie." 

With these comforting words Matilda 
hastened upstairs to inform the old gen- 
tleman of Mr. Templeton's generous 
subscription, and of his thoughtful cash 
installment thereon. 

I defy anyone to do a meritorious 
act upon this earth without being imme- 
diately being repaid for it in the solace 

such righteous conduct will bring to his 
soul. Mr. Bob Lee Templeton had been 
fretting, as we know, during most of the 
evening, over his hard luck in not seeing 
any of the Habersham family after his 
long day's ride with that special object 
in view. Now, however, a feeling of 
content stole over him as his fancy con- 
jured up the vision of a grateful old man 
setting down his subscription of six 
bibles and pocketing the advance pay- 
ment of ten dollars on same. When he 
retired to rest, his mind pursued the 
grateful train of reflection thus aroused, 
and his sympathies went out toward all 
the unfortunates upon the earth where- 
soever they might be. He bethought 
him Mr. Bob Lee Templeton did of 
the great difference between his own 
worldly condition and that of the poor 
old bible-vendor, roaming a fugitive from 
his far-off home. How strange it was, 
he said to himself, that divine prov- 
idence should turn the cold shoulder, so 
to speak, on many deserving people in 
this life and bestow comfort and happi- 
ness on others far less worthy. And how 
ungrateful and unbecoming, said Mr. 
Bob Lee Templeton to himself was the 
behavior of that man who, having this 
world's goods and seeing his brother in 
need, shut up his compassion for him. 
Then, naturally, Mr. Templeton indulged 
in the comfortable reflection that his own 
case was not by any means the one just 
depicted, but quite the reverse. Then 
he fancied the surprise and gratification 
of Miss Polly when his meritorious con- 
duct came to be reported to her. Then 
his pleasing fancies and his conscious- 
ness faded away altogether and he fell 

Mr. Bob Lee Templeton was a young 
man who usually resigned himself to the 
arms of Morpheus as soon as he sought 
his couch and remained there content- 
edly until some one shook him or the 
breakfast bell rang. On this occasion 
he slumbered even more deeply than was 
his wont, for he was tired from his long 


day's ride. After a while he was startled 
by such a rapping at his door as would 
have aroused one who had gone to bed 
dead drunk and was snoring off his in- 

Opening his eyes wide, Mr. Templeton 
saw it was broad daylight, and, spring- 
ing out of bed, he recognized the voice 
of Matilda, keeping excited accompani- 
ment to the constant rapping she main- 
tained at the door. 

"Oh, Mr. Templeton, sir; wake up, if 
you please, sir. Something has happen- 
ed, sir, that I was not in the least expect- 
ing. Indeed, sir, there has, and the 
nee-gros on the place are all in a state of 
dreadful excitement over the matter. It 
is a very strange thing that has happened, 
one that I was not in the least expecting; 
sir, not in the least, sir." 

"What's up with the niggers?" in- 
quired Mr. Templeton, throwing the 
door open as he spoke; for having 
leaped into his trousers he considered 
himself^now fit to receive company. 

"Oh, sir, it isn't the nee-gros at all. 
It's a great deal worse than that, sir. 

They have stolen your horse, Mr. Tem- 

"My horse?" 

"Yes, indeed, sir. And more than 
that; they have stolen Miss Marie's 
horse, too the one with the blaze face 
they call Lightfoot." 

"Well, damn the luck!" exclaimed Mr. 
Bob Lee Templeton, for he wist not 
what to say. 

"Yes, indeed," replied Miss Matilda. 
"I say so too, Mr. Templeton. And that 
isn't all, sir. You know the nice old 
gentleman you ordered. the five bibles 
from? Well sir, he's up and gone, sure 
as the world; and not a soul has the 
slightest idea when he left the house or 
which way he went." 

"What, left in the middle of the night, 
without saying a word to anybody?" 
cried Mr. Templeton. 

"That's just exactly what he did, sir. 
And I can't help thinking, sir, and say- 
ing, that his conduct was a little strange." 

"He's an infernal old humbug," as- 
serted Mr. Templeton, tying his shoes 
hurriedly as he spoke. 

(To be continued) 


By Oscar Johnson 

THIS is the sweetest time of all the year; 

The air is cocl; with clouds of silver sheen 
The skies are flecked, and lovely and serene 
The golden sun shines down, while sweet and clear 
The glad birds sing in fields and woodlands near; 

Beneath one's feet the grass grows fresh and green, 
And in the fragrant woods the violets lean, 
Their blue eyes wet, perhaps with many a tear 
Of crystal dew. The sunny woodland bowers 
Are full of joyous sounds: not birds alone 
Make music there, but cattle roam about 
In dell and hollow, and the silver tone 
Of bells is heard, and children picking flowers 
Beneath the spreading branches laugh and shout. 



THOSE among us, here in America, who believe organized labor should aban- 
don the strike a barbarous, mediaeval weapon which cuts the hand that holds it 
quite as badly as the foe at whom it is aimed and should go into politics to gain 
the ends it seeks, are encouraged by the late parliamentary election in Great Britain. 
Various reports of this election and its meaning have come to us, none in which the 
tremendous facts are writ so large and clear as in the report by W. D. P. Bliss, 
published in Collier's Weekly. Mr. Bliss' article is reproduced here by special 
permission of the editor of Collier's, Norman Hapgood. Frank Putnam 

THERE have just been elected to Great 
1 Britain's Parliament nine miners, seven 
railroad men (engineers, brakemen, navvies), 
five factory-hands, four printers, three shop- 
clerks, two carpenters, two gas-workers and 
general laborers, two steel-smelters, two ship- 
wrights, one barge-builder, one sailor, one 
cooper, one furniture-maker, one watchcase- 
maker, one laster, one blacksmith and one 
agricultural laborer. These men enter to- 
day the great hall of William Rufus, and 
sit, many of them in workman's dress, as 
successors to Hampden, Pitt, Fox and Glad- 
stone. No more important or significant 
event has been flashed across the wires from 
England in fifty, perhaps in one hundred 
years. It is doubtful if any more significant 
event has occured in the world during the 
same period. By the Franco-German War, 
the Spanish-American War, the Russo-Jap- 
anese War, it has been determined that the 
Anglo-Saxon race shall rule the world; by 
these English elections it has been deter- 
mined who shall rule the Anglo-Saxon race. 
These English labor men have come to 
stay and to bring others with them. They 
are not the result of any ministerial crisis or 
passing wave of political excitement. The 
dissolution of Parliament and the downfall of 

Mr. Balfour's ministry may indeed have 
pierced the hole in the dikes of English con- 
servatism, but these events are not responsi- 
ble for, nor the creators of, the ocean of 
England's labor that is pouring through the 
opening. These English labor men are not 
French Communards, Russian Nihilists 
not even German Socialists. They are 
Anglo-Saxons; they belong to the race that 
does things, that does more than it says, that 
achieves, that moves slowly, but when it 
does move, moves forward, and that, once 
having occupied a position, has never been 
known to move backward. These are the 
men who will be each year more in evidence 
in Parliament than they are today. Read 
their names; it is worth while. They are not 
Latin, nor Gallic, nor Slavic, nor Germanic, 
nor even Norman. They belong to the race 
that conquered the Norman conquerors of 
Hastings. There are among them, it is true, 
representatives of Wales, of canny Scotland, 
of the Emerald Isle, but the overwhelming 
majority are Saxon-English, even more than 
they are Anglo-Saxons. Here is the list 
we add a few who are practically identified 
with them, though not themselves actually 
labor men: Abraham (a Welshman), Alden, 
Barnes, Bell, Bowerman, Brace, Broadhurst, 



Burns, Burt, Byles, (notice the monosylla- 
bles), Clynes, Cremer, Crooks, Duncan, Ed- 
wards, George, Gill, Glover, Hall, Hardie, 
Henderson, Hodge, Hudson, Jenkins, John- 
son, Johnston, Jowett, Kelley, Macdonald, 
Macpherson, Maddison, Nicholls, O'Donnell, 
O'Grady, Parker, Richards, Richards, Rich- 
ardson, Roberts, Rowlands, Shableton, Scott, 
Sedden, Snowden, Steadman, Summerbell, 
Vivian, Walsh, Ward, Wardle, Wilkie, Wil- 
liams, Wilson, Wilson, Wilson fifty-five 
names. There is no doubt about the racial 
instincts and the English heredity of these 
men. The list makes one think of John Ball's 
rebellion and Jack Cade's revolt. It is Eng- 
lish to the very core. 

And be it remembered that these not 
have been, but are English working men. 
They have been elected exactly because they 
are working men. In congress, in house 
and senate, you will find men attorneys, 
railroad men, millionaires who began life 
as working men. You will find such instan- 
ces in the legislatures of every country. But, 
in the United States especially, such men 
have ceased to be working men. They are 
ex-working men. They have, as we say, 
"risen above their class." Many of them are 
now the worst foes of labor that can be found. 
Not so with these English labor representa- 
tives. They are not ex-working men. They 
have been elected as working men, by work- 
ing men, for working men. They have not 
"risen above their class." They have risen 
with their class. This is the significance of 
the election. They are taking and, above all, 
they are going to take -their class along with 
them. They are going to take other work- 
ing men with them into parliment, on to the 
front benches, into cabinets, into ministries, 
into prime ministries. They cannot be 
stopped. John Burns in the Liberal Cabinet 
is more of a symbol of what shall be than a 
sign of what is. He is more indicative than 
Campbell-Bannerman. The English dikes 
have been pierced and the ocean is flowing 
in. There is an ocean of votes behind these 
labor men. There are at present somewhat 
more than two and a quarter million trades 
unionists in Great Britain, most of them 
voters and all going to vote tomorrow. That 
would be the equal of four and a half million 
trades unionists in the United States. More- 
over, vast numbers of working men in Eng- 
land who are not in the trades unions are 
quite as politically alive and often more radi- 
cal than the trades union members. Seventy- 
seven per cent, of Great Britain's population 
is engaged in manufactory, commerce, or in 
personal labor. If some of these are of, or 
vote with, the employing class, it will be 

more than balanced by the agricultural la- 
borers who are beginning to vote with the 
workmen of the town. No wonder England's 
worshipers of things as they are stand aghast 
at the prospect of things as they will be in 

Be it remembered, too, that circumstances 
make fifty labor men in parliament vastly 
more significant than eighty social demo- 
crats in the German Reichstag or 115 social- 
ists of various types in the French Chamber 
of Deputies. The fifty labor men in parlia- 
ment are but the beginning of a movement 
which must move increasingly fast The 
growth of German and French socialist votes 
must be increasingly slow. The reason is 
that in every country except England there 
is a large, unprogressive agricultural vote, 
which socialism finds it difficult to capture. 
In Germany, thirty-seven per cent, of the 
population are engaged in agriculture or 
fisheries; in France forty-four per cent. ; in 
the United Kingdom it is only fifteen per 
cent. This means that English working 
class interests are unified and solidified as 
perhaps in no country in the world. The 
English working man is growing self-con- 
scious beyond any metaphysics of German 
Marxism. It is English capitalism, vested 
interests and a more concentrated land mon- 
opoly than in any country of the world that 
is producing this result. The "bitter cry" 
of London, of Newcastle, of Lancashire, of 
York, is more bitter than in any country 
where labor has learned to have any voice at 
all. It is England's aristocracy that is driv- 
ing English working men into parliament as 
their last resource. 

But these labor men will know how to get 
what they want. They have had, the most 
of them, a life training and a personal evolu- 
tion almost startling in what it reveals of 
personal power and intensity of purpose. 
John Burns, thirty-eight years ago, was a lad 
in a candle factory, earning a few shillings a 
week, and spelling out an education at night 
by the light of his flickering lamp. Today he 
is a cabinet minister at a salary of $10,000 
per year. Keir Hardie, forty-two years ago, 
was in the coal-pits at the age of seven, 
never having a day's schooling in his life. 
Now he leads the Independent Labor Party. 
William Crooks, who startled England two 
years ago by carrying Woolwich for labor at 
a bye-election, spent his early boyhood in the 
cold wards of an English poor-house. George 
Nicholls worked till his nineteenth year as 
an agricultural laborer, and then tramped 
England as a navvy, looking for work. Al- 
fred Gill sold papers in Lancashire at the 
age of seven. William Hudson has been a 



railway guard for twenty-six years. Will 
Thome, the first simon-pure socialist to be 
elected to parliament, worked as a boy in the 
brick fields. Thomas Burt was a "trapper" 
in the Northumberland mines. J. R. Clynes 
was a mill boy. William Abraham worked 
in the pits at ten and continued there twenty- 
one years. J. R. Edwards was in the coal- 
pits at nine. T. Glover was in the pits at 
nine. It is astonishing how many of Eng- 
land's labor leaders served apprenticeship in 
the mines. J. Robertson, one of the more 
fortunate, did not enter the pits until eleven. 
G. Wardle worked in a factory at eight. 
J. R. Macdonald's parents were agricultural 
laborers. Today he is secretary of the Par- 
liamentary Labor Representation Committee. 
J. H. Seddon was a grocery clerk. W. C. 
Steadman was a barge-builder. P. Summer- 
bell was the son of a miner and began work 
in a grocery. Stephen Walsh was an orphan 
and educated in an industrial school. Wil- 
liam P. Cremer began as a shipbuilder; in 
1903 he received the Nobel prize. John 
Ward was an English navvy at twelve. John 
Wilson's father was a day laborer and began 
work in the mines. Such were the begin- 
nings of at least three-quarters of these men. 
Today they sit in the most coveted seats in 
England, from which they have ousted, most 
of them, sons of peers or inheritors of mil- 
lions. They have done it, too, by hard per- 
sonal work. It is doubtful if in the whole 
number there is one who owes his success to 
any accident of birth or favor of social posi- 
tion. They are of necessity picked men, the 
pick of English working men, picked by 
their own efforts and strong with the strength 
begotten of success. Most of them have 
labored long at their respective crafts. They 
know the situation. They have thus been 
chosen, almost all of them, as leaders or hard- 
working secretaries of their trades unions. 
They have organized strikes and conducted 
agitations. They have presided over labor 
congresses and served on innumerable com- 
mittees. Very many of them have had legis- 
lative experience on county councils, or as 
aldermen in city halls. Often they have met 
with employers as equals on arbitration 
boards or as representatives of the employes. 
These men will not be turned from their pur- 
pose by Liberal attorneys or Conservative 
Primrose Leagues. They are not all social- 
ists. Very few of them are doctrinaire social- 
ists. But almost to a man they will favor 
constructive, step - by - step, evolutionary 
socialist measures. They will all move in 
one direction, and usually together. In de- 
manding public ownership, at least of muni- 
cipal natural monopolies, in voting for the 

state employment of the unemployed, for 
radical land reform, for old-age pensions, 
trades union legislation, educational reform, 
they will vote as one man. And many not 
of their party will vote with thejn. For 
most labor measures the eighty-one Irish 
nationalist votes can be counted. Similarly 
England's labor men almost unitedly will 
favor Home Rule for Ireland. It is little 
wonder that astute English observers predict 
that in two years local parliaments, friendly 
to England's parliament, will sit in Dublin 
and Edinburg. The only question is how 
long England's House of Peers will continue 
to sit. Thus far the wily peers have been 
able to defy a slightly divided Liberal and 
Conservative House of Commons. It will 
be another thing with a united House of 
Commons accustomed to pushing loaded 
coal trucks and to driving wheels of steel. 
There will be erected on the Thames em- 
bankment no guillotine presided over by 
Kier Hardie; no dynamite bombs will be nor 
need be thrown, but more radical things will 
soon be doing in parliament than beside the 
Seine, the Elbe, or the Neva. It is an Anglo- 
Saxon revolution. 

It is consequently well financed. The La- 
bor Representation Committee collects thirty 
shillings per year for each one thousand 
members connected with societies or unions 
affiliated with the committee and one penny 
from every member for the parliamentary 
fund. Paying sixpence per year ( twelve 
cents), English trades unionists could send 
240 members to parliament and pay each 
$1,000 per year. The money will not be 
wanting for every labor man elected. 

Will this election affect America? The 
editor of a great New York daily declined to 
give much space to the details of the English 
elections. He said: "What does New York 
care that a few English laborers have been 
elected in England?" This shows that the 
editor does not know New York, nor under- 
stand his business. New York is not in- 
different to the most important political 
event of the Anglo-Saxon world. If there 
are those who do not realize this, an editorial 
leader should point it out. The differences 
between a republican and a democratic vic- 
tory, between English liberals and conserva- 
tives, is as nothing compared with the signifi- 
cance of the appearance for the first time in 
either England or America of an organized 
political party to stand for labor as opposed 
to capital and privilege. The former parties 
stand for differences that are fading from 
human thought. Labor and capital politic- 
ally arrayed stand for a cleavage that may 
go to the very bottom of existing society. 

By Eva Ry man-Gaillard 


TO the true flower-lover much of the pleas- 
ure from them is secured by their use as 
cut flowers in all sorts of places, for all sorts 
of decorative purposes and the hints here 
given will be along the line of easy and 
effective ways of arranging them, rather than 
descriptive of any finished effects. 

The petals of many flowers, like the lily 
and the fleur-de-lis, are so fragile that it is 
almost impossible to handle them, after 
they are fully open, without breaking; if cut 
before the petals begin to curve outward 
and allowed to finish expanding after they 
are arranged, this risk is entirely obviated. 

Very few flowers look well when massed 
closely together in the style of arrange- 
ment which leaves the blossoms loose and 
natural in appearance the stems must be 
held in some way. When using opaque re- 
ceptacles, paper, moss, or almost anything 
may be tucked in among the stems to sup- 
port them and prevent the blossoms from 
lopping over on one side, or on all sides. 

For use with glass receptacles having wide 
tops, a circular piece of wire netting is a 
great help. Any dealer will cut it to a de- 
sired size, leaving a few wires on each side 

to be bent into hooks and caught over the 
edge of the glass. This is practically invisible 
if allowed to drop a little below the edge of 
the receptacle; and by putting the stems 
through the meshes of the netting they are 
kept separated and the flowers remain as 

Pansies, violets and other flowers having 
large and heavy heads, in proportion to their 
slender stems, are hard to arrange in any 
kind of receptacle without something to 
hold them in position; the best thing I ever 
have found is a sponge. Get a large one 
and soak it in water until fully distended, 
then cut away one side until it is perfectly 
flat. Round the remaining surface to a sym- 
metrical shape, stick it full of meat skewers 
and let it dry. 

When wanted, pull out the skewers and 
put the stems of flowers in the spaces; set 
the sponge in a plate of water (flat side 
down) and after it has absorbed the water, 
add more and tuck in a few leaves and blos- 
soms where needed to hide the sponge or 

In using flowers that are produced in 
spikes, umbels or other compound forms, it 
often is advisable to sacrifice part of the 
blossom. To illustrate : the immense blos- 
soms of the hardy hydrangea seem little 
suited for use in making wreaths, crosses, 
anchors or other pieces where the flowers 
must lay close to a flat surface; but by cutting 
away the florets on one side until a flat sur- 


face is obtained they may be used as easily 
and effectively as any flower known, and 
have the very desirable qualities of filling 
space rapidly, and keeping fresh for a long 

When possible, use the natural foliage of 
the plant (and plenty of it), for no other 
greenery will give the artistic effect secured 
by using that with which nature surrounded 
the blossoms. 

Nearly always the finest effects are gained 
by using but one kind of flower, and always 
by making the vase subordinate to the 

A vase may be beautiful in itself, but if its 
lines and coloring are not in harmony with 
the flowers put into it, the effect can never be 
artistic, or pleasing to a cultivated taste 


By Katherine E. Megee 


A SIDE from its use as an appetizer, the 
* dietetic value of celery is pretty generally 
appreciated, yet few housewives are aware 
of its culinary possibilities, both alone and 
in combination with other foods, which, 
while affording the change so agreeable to 
the palate, in no wise detract from the food 
value of the plant. 

Below are appended a few choice recipes 
for cooking and serving celery : 

ESCALLOPED CELERY: Wash, scrape and 
cut two bunches nicely bleached celery into 
half-inch lengths, then drop into boiling 
water slightly salted and stew gently five 
minutes; drain well, reserving one-half cup 
of the liquor. Put this over the fire together 
with one cup cream or rich milk and two 
tablespoons butter. Bring to a boil, thicken 
with two tablespoons flour moistened with a 
little cold milk; cook smooth, season to taste 
with salt and white pepper, then pour over 
the celery. When the mixture cools, stir 
into it two beaten eggs, and pour the whole 
into a buttered vamequin, cover with grated 
bread crumbs, dot with bits of butter and 
stand in a hot oven until set and nicely 
browned. Serve hot without re-dishing. 
At the last moment before sending to the 
table sprinkle grated cheese over the top. 

Chop one bunch fine celery into small pieces, 
then stew gently in one pint chicken or veal 
stock. When tender, press through a purde 
sieve, return to the fire and boil rapidly until 
reduced to a cup and one-half. Then stir 
into it half a cup of sweet cream and a large 
tablespoon of butter; boil up once, then 
thicken to the consistency of cream with 
flour moistened with a little cold milk; cook 
smooth, then season to taste with salt and 
white pepper. Poach the required number 
of eggs, arrange on small hot plates for indi- 
vidual serving and pour the pure'e around 

CELERY PATES: Wash clean, then cut 
into small lengths a sufficient quantity of 
nicely bleached celery. Stew until tender in 
boiling salted water; then drain, reserving 
one-half cup of the liquor, to which add the 
same quantity of cream and two tablespoons 
butter. Put over the fire, boil up and thicken 
with one tablespoon flour. Pour this sauce 
over the celery. Have ready pate'-shapes 
baked empty, fill them with the mixture and 
brown in a quick oven. 

CELERY LOAF: Chop fine a sufficient 
quantity of celery to measure two cupfuls; 
stew tender, then cover with a sauce made of 
one cup milk, two tablespoons each of but.ter 
and flour with salt and pepper to season. 
Stir well, then add two beaten eggs or a cup 
of minced veal or chicken. Turn into a but- 
tered mold, stand in a pan of hot water and 
bake in a rather quick oven. When done, 
unmold on a hot platter, garnish with fringed 
celery and serve with tomato sauce. . -. 

(To fringe celery, cut the white stalks into 
three-inch lengths, then draw each end back 
and forth several times through three or four 
coarse needles stuck in one end of a cork.) 

portions of a bunch of well bleached celery 
into half-inch lengths. Pare and cut three 
tart, nicely flavored apples into dice. Mix 
with the celery. Wash and crisp one head 
of lettuce and arrange for individual serving; 
pile little mounds of celery and apple in the 
leaves and dress with salad dressing. This 
salad must not stand long before serving, as 
the apples turn dark when exposed to the air. 
Nuts may be substituted for the apples, using 
twenty English walnuts for each head of cel- 
ery, reserving a dozen meats for garnishing. 
Or the celery may be used alone, in which 
case double the quantity will be required. 

CELERY SOUP: Cook one pint of celery, 
chopped very fine, in one pint cold water, 
salted to taste, until soft enough to mashj 


then rub through a colander. Bring one and 
one-half pints milk to a boil; add the pulped 
celery and one-half teaspoon minced onion. 
Simmer fifteen minutes, then thicken with 
one tc.blespoon flour blended with two of 
butter. Cook until smooth, stirring con- 
stantly. Season to taste with salt and white 

By Eva Ryman-Gaillard 


WE talk about arranging flowers and often 
forget the many who have none to 
arrange and would not know the most com : 
mon sorts by name if they saw them; but, 
fortunately, the sad lack of knowledge and 
enjoyment along this line is being brought 
to the public and a widespread interest is 
the result. To become interested in such a 
subject is equivalent to trying to better con- 
ditions, and among the many plans being 
put in operation that of the "School Garden" 
is destined to be the farthest reaching in its 
results, and destined to achieve those results 
quipkly because of the fact that when a child 
is interested he will see to it that everyone 
interested in him shares in that interest. 

This work has grown, in a very few years, 
from the school garden where a love for 
beautiful surroundings was taught through 
the work, to thousands of home gardens 
where both flowers and vegetables are grown 
from seeds sold to the school children at a 
penny per packet. 

In order to have the children do their 
home work with an intelligence which will 
insure the success necessary to a continued 
interest, they are taught the work in gardens 
belonging to the school, where the enthu- 
siasm of numbers working together adds to 
the interest. 

As a means of promoting interest in the 
school garden idea, as well as furnishing a 
text book for use in the work, Mr. H. D. 
Hemenway (director of the School of Hor- 
ticulture, in Hartford, Connecticut) has pub- 
lished a little book entitled "Hints and 
Helps for the Young Gardeners," in which 
he shows every step of the way, making 
plain even such little things as the right and 
the wrong ways of spading soil and the 
many other little things which the beginner 
needs to know, whether his years number 
seven or seventy. 

In a perfectly simple way Mr. Hemenway 

makes plain the "how-to-do" side of growing 
flowers or vegetables in the house or in the 
open ground; in a large garden or in a soap 
box; in Winter or in Summer; in shady or 
in sunny places, and in many instances illus- 
trates the idea by pictures of school children 
doing the work described. These pictured 
lessons are so plain that any child gets the 
idea at the first glance. 

This book not only shows working 
methods so plainly that any teacher may, by 
its help, start such work among his pupils, 
but by showing how garden work tends to- 
ward the physical development of the chil- 
dren; how the turning of back-yards (often 
filthy ones) into little gardens helps the san- 
itary conditions, as well as the looks, of an 
entire neighborhood, and the many other 
ways in which the work reaches out and bet- 
ters the conditions of life where they most 
need bettering, he makes every reader want 
to help start the work or give it aid where 
already started. 

The price of this little book is so small 
($20 per hundred) that any board of control 
can put it into the hands of every pupil, 
and at the same time inaugurate a system of 
gardening in the school which will do more 
good than can be estimated. 


By Frank E. Channon 


li/OMEN sometimes get some good ideas. 
I don't say that patronizingly. I simply 
raise my hat and make the statement. Here 
is an idea that occured to my wife back last 
Summer, and one that proved itself a great 
success. We had just moved out from the 
city to a three-acre piece of land aud like 
most "town farmers," we wanted to make 
our three acres give us everything. One of 
the first things we intended to be indepen- 
dent about was our butter. We had bought 
a good Jersey and she was giving us nearly 
three gallons a day, so we had lots of cream, 
but hadn't bought a churn. Said my wife: 

"What's the matter with the ice-cream 
freezer ? " 

I said I had never heard of butter being 
made in that utensil. She said that didn't 
matter; she didn't see why it shouldn't, so 
we poured two quarts of nice, rich cream 
into the freezer and turned the crank Well, 



to cut a long story short, the cream became 
butter at last, but it was a long trip nearly 
two hours. 

The fact that the butter did "come," how- 
ever, set me thinking, and now, well, now, 
I wouldn't swap my big ice-cream freezer as 
a butter producer for the best churn on 
earth. With it, I will undertake to bring 
butter any day in fifteen minutes; that is, if I 
take care of the cream up to the time of 
churning. This is my plan: 

I churn twice a week Tuesdays and 
Saturdays. If the weather is cool, I keep 
on the side of the stove a big two-gallon 
crock. Into this I pour all the cream that 
we don't use, and allow it to sour. If the 
weather is hot I allow it to sour away from 
the stove. On churning day I take my big 
freezer and empty the contents of the crock 
into it. In the place where the ice is gener- 
ally packed, I pour a couple of quarts of very 
cold water, right from the well. Some days 
when it is very hot, I chop off a bit of ice 
and throw that into the water; but in cool or 
cold weather I have no trouble. Then I 
simply turn the crank and in anywhere from 
ten to fifteen minutes I get butter and fine 
butter, too. 

I have never churned with a proper butter 
churn in my life, but people tell me that very 
often it takes much longer than this. 

It may be that elsewhere other people 
have caught on to the freezer idea, but 
around this neighborhood I seem to be the 
first one. Try it; give the idea a fair chance 
and you'll not be disappointed. 



Tor each little help found suited for use in this 
department, we award one year's subscription to the 
National Magazine. If you are already a subscriber. 
VANTAGE OF THIS OFFER. You can then either 
extend your own term or send the National to a 
friend. If your little help does not appear, it 
is probably because the same idea has been 
offered by someone else before you. Try again. 
We do not want cooking recipes, unless you have 
one for a new or uncommon dish. Enclose a 
tamped and self-addressed envelope if you wish 
VL* to return or acknowledge unavailable offerings. 


Valley Junction, Iowa 

Cut a snip off the end of potatoes before placing in 
the oven to bake. The steam escapes and leaves the 
potato mealy. 


Unadilla, New York 

Use wood ashes plentifully on old garden soil and 
you will have no trouble about your cauliflower head- 
ing, providing you purchase good seed. It is equally 
good for cabbage. 

By G. 

Redding, Connecticut 

A valuable discovery made recently is a comfortable 
and even elegant way of eating boiled chestnuts. A 
bit of shell is pared from the larger end of each nut 
before boiling for twenty minutes in salted water; they 
are then eaten conveniently from the insinuating tip 
of a coffee spoon chestnuts on the half-shell, as it 
were, properly accompanied by a draught of sweet 
cider. With a small, sharp knife, a quart of chestnuts 
can be prepared for boiling in ten minutes or less. 


Brighton, Washington 

If you live in the city and have a limited space for 
gardening, and wish to grow strawberries, you can 
grow them in the following manner. Take a barrel, 
fill with good, rich soil after boring holes all around 
the barrel with a two-inch auger, having the holes 
about eight inches apart each way. Set a plant in 
each hole and you can either grow strawberries at the 
top of the barrel or you can have a few flowers. The 
berries will be perfect and clean if you keep them well 

By MRS. F. M. 
Fullerton, California 

Dip a mop into water to which salt has been added, 
wring almost dry and mop up the matting. This keeps 
matting much better than simply sweeping it well. 



Anoka, Minnesota 

If your fountain pen is stuck so you cannot unscrew 
it, wrap a small rubber band tightly around the nozzle 
or pen part. This will give you a grip on thtpen that 
will nearly always fetch it. If you cannot get it to 
come off by using the rubber, try putting a little 
powdered rosin on the fingers. I have never known 
the rosin to fail; but it is rough for the hand. 

Rosin on the hand will always fetch a tight watch 
case or any other smooth, screw-joint article. 


By V. M. B. 
Tiashoke, New York 

A teaspoonful of saltpetre added to a large pot 
of glue will effectually prevent it from smelling bad; 
besides, it causes the glue to dry faster and harder 
than it would without the saltpetre. 


By E. S. C. 

Chicago, Illinois 

It is said that ten or fifteen years ago soup was 
served in very few American homes, while now it 
forms an essential part of every well-regulated dinner. 

Soup has its place at the beginning of dinner, for a 
reason, not a fad. It is a valuable appetizer, acting as 
a stimulant rather than a nutrient, and being quickly 
assimilated, prepares the way for the dishes to follow. 

Gouffe says: "Beef broth is the soul of domestic 
cookery." That is, it is the essence that is to pervade 
the body of the dish, giving character and atmosphere 
without substance. But to get that "soul" out of the 
formula, beginning, "take a shin of beef," has proven 
a difficult problem to many a housekeeper and a seem- 
ing impossibility to more than a few cooks. 

Edward Atkinson said in the beginning of his well 
known directions on how to prepare and cook food: 
"Take one part of gumption and one part of food." 
Gumption simmered gently with the "shin of beef" will 
produce beef broth, but gumption brings a high price 
on the market of commodities nowadays, and is often 
lacking at any. The demand for marketable gumption 
has brought into being a substitute for home-made 
beef broth, in the form of Armour's Extract of Beef. 
With a jar of solid, or a bottle of fluid extract at hand, 
the cook has, without time or trouble, and with ordi- 
nary or even less expense, the "soul" of her cookery at 

Thin, poorly flavored, watery soups are never satis- 
factory and are actually wasteful, but such need 
never be served if the right use be made of the materi- 
als. Pea, bean, corn, tomato, vegetable and grain soups 
of all kinds, can be prepared of the left-overs of canned 
and fresh vegetables, if properly combined with stock 
made from Extract of Beef. In such cases recipes can 
act as suggestions only, for the ingredients must vary 
with the exigencies of the larder. The proportion of 
Extract, however, remains the same. 

When a clear soup, such as bouillon, rice or sphagetti 
is to be made, take one teaspoonful of Armour's Solid 
Extract of Beef to every quart of water. When used 
for purees, bisques and those soups with substance or 
bodies to them, take one-half, or even at times all that 
is required is one-quarter, teaspoonful of Armour's 
Solid Extract of Beef to every quart of water. Soups 
that have a stock of their own require but one-quarter 
teaspoonful of Armour's Solid Extract of Beef to give 
the desired meat juices and flavor. 

The exact measurement of the required seasonings 
can rarely be given, for adaptation is one of the neces- 
sities. Add salt until the soup is "bright-tasting" but 
not suggestive of sea water; pepper to the brink of 
pungency, giving the tone of warmth, not a burning 

By MRS. J. M. 

Nadeau, Michigan 

If the cat needs medicine, don't try to force it down 
her throat or mix it with milk. Smear it on her sides 
and she will lick it all off clean. 



Canastota, New York 

Always when I put raisins through the chopper they 
come out all sticky and lumped together. I find that 
by first washing the raisins in cold water before putting 
them through the chopper, they come out free and 
in fine condition to use, not adhering in masses as 

By H. P. 

Worcester, Massachusetts 

To save the taking up of ashes, we have an arrange- 
ment which we would dislike to be without. In 
the bottom of our range we cut a hole in which a 
three-inch galvanized iron pipe is inserted. This 
leads into a brick pit directly underneath in the base- 
ment, which holds two cart-loads of ashes; so it is neces- 
sary to have them removed only once a year. As our 
grate is moderately fine we never have to dump it, 
thus saving the disagreeable work of sifting the ashes! 



Whitewater, Wisconsin 

In the early Spring and Fall before house-cleaning 
time has arrived, the carpets often look so dusty that 
the housekeeper is in despair. When this is the case 
let her take a basin of water in which a little ammonia 
has been dropped, and after she has wrung a cloth out 
and wiped off the floor, she will be agreeably surprised, 
as the carpet will look as fresh as when first put down 
and keep clean much longer than it otherwise would. 


Sardis, Mississippi 

Every country housekeeper knows the enormous 
waste from the lard supply in "cracklings" in the old 
way of "drying up" lard at hog-killing time. The n,w 
way turns all the fat into lard. Cut the fat from the 
skins, free it from all lean particles and bloody shreds, 
and where there is only a small quantity to be rendered 
mix the leaf lard with the other fat. Wash first in 
quite warm water and rinse twice in cold water, put it 
on the stove in closely covered vessels, stirring fre- 
quently until the fat is boiled perfectly done and ten- 
der. Have ready some good, home-made, sound wood- 
ash lye, strain from all sediment and add half a teacup 
of the lye to each gallon of the fat, first removing it 
from the fire to cool somewhat or it may boil over. 
Return to the fire and cook gently. If the fat is 
thoroughly done it will soon be reduced to a creamy 
consistency the fat entirely dissolved. Cook the lard 
uncovered after the lye is added. When the lard is 
done it will be perfectly clear with a very thin, brown, 
gummy scum on top no cracklings at all. Remove 
this scum and let the lard remain on the stove at the 
scalding, but not boiling, point for two or three hours. 
Pour into perfectly dry, hot earthen jars holding only 
one gallon each is the best size. Let it cool uncovered 
and then cover closely and keep air-tight. Keep in a 
cool, dry place. I prefer to keep my lard in small ves- 
sels because only the small quantity is exposed to the 
air while using, the bulk of the year's supply remaining 
air-tight, and in no danger of becoming rancid. 


By MRS. I. W. 
St. Joseph, Missouri 

When my husband's linen collars are past wearing I 
put them in hot water and rub the starch out; then I 
peel off the outer linen pieces, hemstitch them, and 
put them on bands for my little girl to wear with 
school frocks. These turn-overs are easy to make, 
launder beautifully, and wear as long as those made of 
new linen. 

Nofe and Comment 

by Frank Pufnam 

WE haven't a king to rule us in 
the United States, but we have the 
federal supreme court in office for 
life, and not responsible to the people 
which is a very effective substitute for 
an absolute monarch. 

Precisely as Hamilton and the other 
monarchists in the constitutional con- 
vention intended, the federal judges 
are steadily advancing their own pre-. 
rogatives unmaking good laws enacted 
by congress and signed by the presi- 
dent, and making new, bad laws by 
pretending to read new meanings into 
the constitution. Always these laws slain 
by the federal court are laws that were 
demanded by the people the income- 
tax law was an example; always these 
usurpations of the federal courts are 
in the interest of the too-rich and the 
too-powerful witness the countless 
injunctions forbidding workmen to exer- 
cise their "natural and inalienable" right 
of free speech for self-preservation. 

Everybody knows now that the federal 
senate is made up mainly of railroad and 
other trusts' lawyers; what everybody 
apparently does not yet know, or realize, 
is that the System organized preda- 

tory wealth is now relying more on 
the federal courts than it does on the 
senate. The System long since found 
it cheaper to elect senators than to buy 
them after election so it dismissed the 
lobby and seated its agents in the senate. 
Now that the senate seems likely to be 
abolished for its crimes, the System will 
be found more strongly intrenched in the 
federal courts than it ever was in the 
senate. It will make its last stand be- 
hind the one bulwark of genuine abso- 
lutism possible under our government 
the federal judiciary. 

The people may purge the senate of 
its trust lawyers, may regain control of 
it for a time, but it is, in its nature, a 
denial of the safety of really popular gov- 
ernment; and I predict that this people 
will in due time, perhaps a very short 
time, cut it out of their governmental 
system entirely. As long as we retain 
the senate, we so notify the world that 
we dare not trust ourselves to enjoy 
really free government; that we feel the 
need of guidance by a house of over- 
lords, who shall have power to deny us 
our desires, whenever, in their opinion, 
we ought so to be denied. This means f 



in practice, whenever our desires conflict 
with those of the overlords and their 
master the System. 

The house of representatives, having 
to go back to the people every two years 
for reelection, can always be forced to 
obey any really widespread public de- 
mand; and, if Washington and Jefferson 
and Lincoln were right, if we as a peo- 
ple really have enough justice and hu- 
manity and common sense in our brains 
to govern ourselves, then the quicker we 
cut out the house of lords and simplify 
government by putting it into the hands 
of a house of direct representatives who 
must answer to us every two years for 
what they do in office, the better for us 
all around. 

My own belief is that time spent in 
tinkering the senate will be time wasted 
that instead of moving to have sena- 
tors elected by direct vote of the people, 
we would do better to move for the 
abolition of that body. It will be just 
as difficult, and just as easy, to do one 
thing as the other. Thirty states must 
ratify either proposition before it can 
be added to our federal constitution, and 
the System will make a mighty fight to 
beat the movement in the twenty-ninth 
and thirtieth states, you can depend 
on that. 

As to the System's last stronghold, 
the absolute federal courts, we'll have to 
amend the constitution, making these 
judges elective and for limited terms. 
If we don't need any house of lords, we 
surely don't need any absolute mon- 

A big job? Certainly. But there's 
no lack of time to do it in, and our sons 
and daughters can take it up where we 
leave off. (Our daughters must have the 
ballot and be taught how to use it.) The 
main thing is to know where you want 
to go, and why, then get started. 

CTEi* by step, cautiously, timidly, man- 

kind comes out of its native jungle. 

Today, in every civilized country, intelli- 

gent public opinion concedes, and is 
moving to a position where it will be 
able to guarantee to every man and 
every woman, the right to a job whereby 
life can be sustained decently and in 

The only way in which society can 
guarantee this right is by owning and 
operating a sufficient number of indus- 
tries to give such jobs to all who are 
unable to get them in private employ- 
ment. The crudest spectacle in the 
world is that of the individual man or 
woman eager to work for a living, to 
feed and clothe helpless dependents, to 
render a useful service to society and 
unable to get work to do. None but the 
ignorant or the malicious will deny that 
there are many such cases in every coun- 
try, even during what are known as the 
most prosperous periods. There are 
tens of thousands of them in this coun- 
try today, and other hundreds of thou- 
sands whose work yields them less than 
enough to sustain life decently and in 

The first industries to be taken over 
will be those which are essentially public 
in their character the steam and electric 
highways, for example, and those other 
industries which in private hands have 
been so monopolized as to levy extor- 
tionate tribute upon the masses of the 

England, where most of the working- 
men are engaged in manufacturing, and 
are therefore closer to each other, better 
able quickly to spread the new ideal of 
the duty of society to its members, will 
lead us in the new socialization of indus- 
tries. Our farmers, comparatively isolat- 
ed, most of them, and most of them land- 
owners and therefore quick to doubt the 
virtue of any scheme to socialize property 
now held by individuals, will perhaps be 
slower than our city-workmen in adopt- 
ing the new idea. But they will take it 
up, soon or late; and when they do, 
they will put it through in their 
usual thorough and workmanlike way 


By Joe Mitchell Chappie 

IT is a far cry from the pages of a modern magazine exposure series to 
"The Pilgrim's Progress." One of our most prominent public offi- 
cials recently called attention to the man with the muck-rake, described 
by Bunyan, who stood all day raking together all manner of filth, while 
just above his head and within his reach hung the golden crown of 
everlasting bliss. But the poor man was so absorbed and infatuated in 
collecting muck and only muck that he could not see anything else, 
and refused to lift his eyes to the heavens and see the crown which he at 
first honestly sought that hung above in God's own smile and sun- 
light rather than in the depths of the mire. 

Now that the warm Chinook breezes have supplanted the rough 
winds of March, I have a desire to "rise in meetin' " and say some- 
thing, in a colloquial way, which has been in my mind for months past. 

For years I have been assiduously cultivating a cheerful disposi- 
tion the happy habit and therefore cannot join in this wail of pessim- 
ism which the wailers many of them political agitators in guise of 
"reformers" are trying to represent as public sentiment. The wave 
of exposurism which has been sweeping through the press is only 
the sure and certain reckoning that comes to nations and individuals 
periodically, and when honestly and squarely made serves a useful pur- 
pose, but I cannot see any reason why people should grow hysterical 
because of it. Exposurism is being overdone it has become of itself 
a peril. Scarcely a periodical is published without its sensational, 
saffron-hued pages of description of public clinic and dissecting table, 
and I'll confess it we have been infected. 

* * # * * 

Although many articles have been printed and sentiments 
expressed in The National Magazine which we know are as repugnant to 
the feelings of some of our readers as they are to us, yet a sense of 
toleration is our only plea for having printed this matter. We realized 
at the time it must be objectionable to those of contrary opinions, but 
we wished to present all phases, so as to clarify conviction. 

Every newspaper man knows that in cold print with sensational 
headlines even the most innocent proposition of ordinary, everyday 
affairs and business would not always stand the rigid "rule of'thumb." 
Why wear blue goggles and believe that the world is going to the bow- 
wows, just because the spirit of investigation is abroad and has revealed 
murky spots 1 All this is simply a re-adjustment of our equilibrium. 


If one stops to listen to the comments of persons who are captivated 
by the more or less inaccurate and one-sided exposures that are abroad, 
it will usually be found that at the 'foundation of their interest is the 
basic hope that something will come to THEM out of the scramble 
they want a share of the spoils when the possessions of others are 
divided or they have a subtle wounded vanity or envy to soothe. 

Is it a cry of sham or shame? There seems to be a syndicate of 
shame exposers, or sham exposers, who go around with a list of ques- 
tions aud obtain in one breath answers where they can, so that they may 
be able to scent and use the overworked word "Graft," with double 
capitals on the letter G and trilling rrr r ' s. In their anxiety to indict 
evildoers according to their views they have no time to listen to quali- 
fications or explanations which may accompany the answers to such 
queries. Instead of giving "all the truth and nothing but the truth," 
they dash off answers which in part may be true, but on the whole are 
a misrepresentation of the actual facts. 


The English language is debauched for superlatives; the word 
"treason" is coming trippingly from the tongue in order to arouse a 
sentiment that is the embodiment of the black hand itself. 

Meetings of socialists are being held every night in the year in large 
cities to inflame the poor people against existing conditions. And 
strange as it may seem, most of those meetings are supported by men 
who have been and are aspirants for political honors, and some of whom 
possess thousands of acres of land in the West, on which they are waiting 
for an advance in values, but on which these poverty stricken people 
ought to be living and with a chance to make a decent livelihood 
out of God's own acres, instead of feeding upon this insidious propa- 
ganda of false hopes. 

Among those present at a gathering at the villa of J. G. P. Stokes 
who seek to cure all ills under the Socialist banner were the following 
eminent gentlemen: Morris Hilquit, the scholar of the Socialist 
movement in New York; Leonard Abbott and Victor L. Berger, Social- 
ist leaders; John Spargo, another Socialist; Gaylord Wilshire; Prof. 
Franklin H. Giddings of Columbia; David Graham Phillips and Ray 
Stannard Baker, magazine exposers; State Senator Everett Colby of 
New Jersey, reformer; Ernest Crosby, single taxer; Arthur Brisbane, 
George Fred Williams, William Kent, J. G. Phelps Stokes, ex-Senator 
John Ford, John Brisben Walker, Hamilton Holt, E. J. Ridgway, of 
Everybody's Magazine; Ernest Poole, John De Witt Warner and 
A. J. Boulton. 

A halt has been called upon the magazine muck rakes if I read 
public sentiment aright. The people are tired of this array of aggre- 
gated evil and corruption, with nothing but aggregated "Graft" to read 
about. It is a "Get-Fame-Quick" route for certain writers. What 


is more contemptible than the man who, on a battlefield, plays the 
vulture and the vandal and removes the jewels that he finds on the 
bodies of his fallen brothers, even though they may have been slain 
in a wrongful cause! Then what shall be said of the men who deliber- 
ately seek to tear down reputations with indiscriminate, ghoulish glee, 
and feed upon public confidence, grasping anew at the few remnants that 
may be left even to the fallen in order that they may push themselves 
into political prominence? They are the foxes and crows of society. 
They come along crying: 

"Caw! caw! Cry out against this corruption. Follow Me!" 

I cannot work up a deep sympathy with the people who appear to 
have a yearning to smash "everything in sight." Smashing is much 
easier and quicker than constructing it takes less effort; but before 
destroying the old it is very expedient and reasonable to provide some- 
thing new and better to take its place. 

There are two sides to a question, and it is well to go around and 
look at your proposition from the other side, and then to take a look also 
at the top and bottom by that time it will often be discovered that the 
bottom has fallen out or fallen somewhere. When a man considers a 
question in this way, he is not likely to get the exposure fever, because 
his own conscience will suggest to him that the same principles, motives 
and impulses that are apparent in other people exist also in himself, 
and he does not feel that his own human self is so much holier than 
his brother. Let us recall Ruskin's suggestion and "Take a mental 
looking glass now and then." f 

Suppose we were to print in cold type all the details of our own 
lives your life and mine do you think we could bear to see every light- 
est thought and word, every careless action, produced under flashing 
headlines in cold, bold type, and not flinch at the sight? Well, 
I confess I'd leave town. 

On the other hand, to print and array all the good things we have 
done might make us vain. Do you believe we could endure the muck 
rake process, which rakes together all that is worst and lets the pearls of 
honesty and purity fall in the mud unseen? All that is worst is gathered 
together amalgamated and over it then is cast the dark pall of suspicion, 
through which no gleam of good intention or pure motive is allowed to 

Paint, if you will, the whole truth give the lights as well as the 
shadows. Dr. David Swing once collected in a lecture all the evils of 
the Seventeenth century, and it seemed as though the whole structure of 
good impulse had fallen. But, on the other hand, he gathered all the 
good of the times and glories of that period, and presented an inspiring 

P icture - * * * *. * 

Take a concrete example, in the postoffice department, of the 
iniquity and corruption of which we have heard so much. Yet, after 


most relentless and searching inquiry, but two men out of about 25,000 
employes have been convicted of corruption or bribery. Can you 
imagine a corporation of such a size making a better showing? Suppose 
these 25,000 men represented a city of 125,000 people, using the multiple 
of five to a family, can you conceive of a city of such a size in this 
country where but two men could be convicted of corruption? 

The fact is, that there never was a time when public corruption was 
more vigorously and uncompromisingly punished. But if the charges 
borne on every wave of suspicion are permitted to convulse and confuse 
all society, where shall we land? 

"Many are ready to condemn and accept the naked charge as proof 
of guilt as they pass the judgment of an evil-thinking mind." This is 
nothing short of hysteria, and a halt has been called on the periodical 
muck rakes of today. 

Members of the Masonic orders understand the false exposure 
heaped upon that organization in anti-Mason wars. The Catholic 
church and many other religious orders have been the victims of these 
half-written and oftentimes venomous attacks. The confession of Taxil, 
the French Free-thinker, who first exposed Catholics and then Masons, 
makes interesting reading bearing on the present situation today. Similar 
motives actuate some of the "muck rakes" of today, as indicated in the 
following confession : 

"The public made me what I am; the arch-liar of the period," con- 
fessed Taxil, "for when I first commenced to write against the Masons 
my object was amusement pure and simple. The crimes I laid at their 
door were so grotesque, so impossible, so widely exaggerated, I thought 
everybody would see the joke and give me credit for originating a new 
line of humor. But my readers wouldn't have it so; they accepted my 
fables as gospel truth, and the more I lied for the purpose of showing 
that I lied, the more convinced became they that I was a paragon of 

"Then it dawned upon me that there was lots of money in being 
a Munchausen of the right kind, and for twelve years I gave it to them 
hot and strong, but never too hot. When inditing such slush as the 
story of the devil snake who wrote prophecies on Diana's back with the 
end of his tail, I sometimes said to myself: 'Hold on, you are going 
too far,' but I didn't. My readers even took kindly to the yarn of 
the devil who, in order to marry a Mason, transformed himself into a 
crocodile, and, despite the masquerade, played the piano wonderfully 

"One day when lecturing at Lille, I told my audience that I had 
just had an apparition of Nautilus, the most daring affront on human 
credulity I had so far risked. But my hearers never turned a hair. 
'Hear ye, the doctor has seen Nautulius,' they said with admiring 
glances. Of course no one had a clear idea of who Nautilus was I 
didn't myself but they assumed that he was a devil. 

"Ah, the jolly evenings I spent with my fellow authors hatching out 
new plots, new, unheardof perversions of truth and logic, each trying to 
outdo the other in organized mystification. I thought I would kill 


myself laughing at some of the things proposed, but everything went; 
there is no limit to human stupidity." 


To decry no public man unjustly; not to abandon the plain, direct 
sense of duty, not to refuse examination of any charges that are just, 
while refusing to harbor indiscriminate accusations, is what must be 
done before we can tell where the actual stealing and lying begins and 
ends and where the lying begins and stealing ends. Half truths, sup- 
plemented by the dark shadows of suspicion and inuendo are the men- 
ace of today, for 

"A lie that is half the truth is ever the worst of lies." 

Half truths threaten to debauch, first the individual then the state, 
into an utter loss of confidence in the very existence of honesty and 

The solution of national and corporate evils is already at work the 
limelight of publicity not muck rakes. There would be little crime 
left in the dark byways of our cities if they were brilliantly lighted by 
electricity, which would show them AS THEY ARE, and not as we 
think they are. But don't let the light grow into a conflagration that 
consumes and destroys. 

The trend of this agitation is toward a certain form of socialism, 
which augurs ill for the future of our beloved country. I myself once felt 
a tendency toward a kind of socialism which is difficult to define, though 
it was indescribably attractive. With a view to acquiring more informa- 
tion on the subject, I attended socialist meetings, but the more I learned 
of their propaganda the more I believed that the bone and sinew of the 
nation would arise and meet the issues of the day in a fair, square man- 
ner, instead of appealing to the same reprehensible avarice and passions 
of men which are being combated as corrupt and iniquitous. 

Recently I attended one of these meetings which was addressed by 
one whom I knew as a very clever fellow in his own special line. His 
speech was plain and sometimes forcible, yet I believe my friend missed 
his vocation when he "started to stump" for socialism. His logic wob- 
bled. He drew vivid pictures of the wild orgies indulged in by the 
"leisured classes." Right on top of this statement he demanded a three 
or four hour day for every working man that they might also have time 
for orgies? nay, nay, but to improve their minds! The speaker 
simply assumed that human nature was more than human among the 
working classes, and I was tempted to remind him of Sunday school 
days when we had learned that "Satan finds some mischief still for idle 

hands to do." 


Our lecturer used frequent illustrations, one being an imaginary 
island, the rostrum of Faneuil Hall, the Cradle of Liberty, with ama- 
teur fishermen, who daily obtained just enough fish to feed themselves. 


He then supposed that one man invented a trap which caught far- more 
fish than could be taken by anyone in the ordinary way. In a short 
time, he said, this man would dominate the whole island, and a time 
would come when this "big fish" would eat up all the little ones. Ye 
gods and little fishes what shall be done to the wicked inventors and 
employers of our day? Shall we regard invention as witchcraft and 
drown or burn them, that the rest of us poor, dull mortals shall continue 
to plod along and catch barely enough fish to keep the breath in our 
bodies, and fan the feeble flame of our unimaginative minds? Can it be, 
I said to myself, that intelligent people are taking seriously to such 
theories? I do not pretend to have been a close student of socialism, 
but if I desired to be more convinced than I now am that it is an 
earnest but misguided and illogical propaganda, I should listen again for 
an hour or so to such a speaker as my talented and lovable friend. 
A picture was drawn of the poor little children going to work, eat- 
ing johnny cake dipped in gravy. Now, I have done that myself and 
have been none the worse for it. But the opportunities offered in 
this land made a change possible. That's the whole point. Give 
the boys and girls a* chance keep open the doors of opportunity 
and do not allow lazy ones and parisites to obstruct or rob a worker 
of the well earned reward of his toil. There are people who pine 
for only a "jug of wine, a loaf of bread" and ease. Let them have 
their choice, but there is no justice in encouraging the lazy and worth- 
less with hopes of getting something which they have never earned. 
The whole scheme seems to me an appeal to the selfish and shiftless, 
though I know there were in that audience many persons whose earnest 

and honest convictions must be respected. 

* # # * * 

In the usual discussions I have heard only two classes mentioned. 
There is another to be dealt with. Beside labor and capital there is the 
third great power lying between the two the Fulcrum that brings all 
humanity more nearly on a level, making true democracy possible. 
This is the great exploiting and executive force of the country r with- 
out which capital can do nothing and labor is helpless. 

True, this Fulcrum must be closely allied to capital, because with- 
out capital it would be impossible to employ labor, yet the "Fulcrum" 
body represents the golden mean that could not exist without the two 
extremes. Perhaps it is the most desirable state of all, as Horace says, 
"He that holds fast the golden mean 
And lives contentedly between 
The little and the great, 
Feels not the wants that pinch the poor 
Nor plagues that haunt the rich man's door 
Embittering his estate." 

Let me enter a plea for the great Fulcrum, to which the workers of 
today are intimately allied. The small shopkeeper, the superintendent, 
the foreman, anyone who directs, the owner of a little farm all are 
employers no matter to how small an extent. Alarmists say, "Kill off 
the employers," but what a wild pandemonium it would be if such a 


thing should even be considered, for thousands who have no suspicion 
that they belong to that obnoxious body, would go to the guillotine. 

It must be remembered that the bridge which "carries over" the 
workers of today is provided by the wielders of this executive force, and 
it is really they who supply the motive force, furnishing means of making 
a livelihood. Too often it is forgotten how thousands aye millions 
have gone to suicide, ruined and desperate, because they have sought 
and sought for work and failed to find it. In the days of the soup- 
houses, who does not remember that awful cry for work, and what a 
despair came over every man as he looked from the smokeless factory 
chimney to the dead embers on his own hearth in which he may have 
burned the golden corn of his year's toil for fuel because of low prices 
and no market. 

And there are others whose fate is just as pitiable the men who 
have struggled to build up a great business and failed. When they fell, 
when the crash came, did labor lose its hire? No! Labor was paid. 
The owner's fortune and too often the fortunes of his friends were 
lost in that struggle to build a future for himself and provide another 
means to meet the expanding wants of the world for something to eat 
and something to wear, but most of all to create more work and wage. 

One great trouble is the division of profits, and this means nothing 
more nor less than submission to square and honest dealing. The pros- 
perity of later times has had a tendency to create the arbitrary trusts, 
controlling the necessities of life, which have found that good natured 
toleration has its limit. It has also created a trust of labor, which seeks 
to interfere with the inalienable rights of the independent laborer. Who 
will suffer most in tearing down the constructive and cohesive forces of 
the nation? The favorite dream of many socialists appears to be a 
wider distribution of money, but in the name of common sense, how can 
capital be better or more evenly distributed than by creating work for an 
honest wage? It is the old story the aggressiveness of those who have 
not toward those who have. They seem inclined to act on the 
advice given by the old Scotchman to his son, "Get money, honestly if 
you can, but get it? 

Are we bringing on a general fear for every man who has capital, 
whether he be a large or a small money owner? This in turn will 
react upon the workers, for capitalists will fear to invest money where it 
will be imperilled by the menace of socialism. Would even the man 
who has a small sum saved think of putting it into a constructive enter- 
prise if he felt that the moment the undertaking began to prove profit- 
able, along would come someone else and take his honestly earned in- 
crement from him? The man who lost a hundred dollars in any such 
way would be quick to see the injustice of having his earnings grabbed 
by someone who never worked for them. He would be like the thief of 
whom Charles Reade tells in his thrilling story, "Never Too Late to 
Mend." This man of easy manners could never see any harm in taking 
what he desired until he had been transported to Australia and became 
a gold digger. Then, when his own hard earned nuggets were stolen one 
night, he suddenly saw the injustice of theft in general, for the simple 
reason that it now touched his own welfare. 

Let justice be done, even to those who have thriven in arousing the 
passions of their fellow citizens. Many of these persons are earnest and 
sincere, but it is time that some great public leader with clarion voice 
should arise and cry "Halt!" until we have carefully considered where 
all this fever of passion and prejudice is leading us. 



By Jpe Mitchell Chappie 

ABOUT the time that the National 
Educational Association has its an- 
nual meeting, there is an amazing num- 
ber of school teacher recruits. An ar- 
rangement has been devised by which 
anyone buying a ticket is also entitled 
to membership in the National Educa- 
tional Association, as well as securing 
low rates which have been arranged for 
the teachers and the general public who 
desire to attend the convention. 

The attention of all the people in the 
United States who ever hope to visit 
California is focused on the National 
Educational Convention in San Fran- 
cisco, which is to be held from July 9 
to 13. Boston at present holds the 
medal for large attendance at a gather- 
ing of this kind, for over 37,000 excur- 
sionists were registered at the conven- 
tion held two years ago. Now, the peo- 
ple of the Pacific coast are aroused and 
are going to use every energy to make 
a tremendous record for attendance, and 
the figures shown by the thickly settled 
eastern portion of the country are to be 
a ^ standard for the convention held 
within sight of the Golden Gate. 

Los Angeles did very well with 22,000 
but now for Californian push again. 
Calif ornians are already writing to all 
their friends, or anyone whom they think 
might make the trip in all parts of the 
country extending a hearty welcome. 
Now is the time to make that long- 
talked-of visit to the Pacific coast. When 
you begin to think of excursions, the first 
question is: 

"What are the rates?" 

Well, you can have a round trip for 
$64.50 from Chicago, with the advan- 
tage of a personally conducted tour on 
a special train, which will leave Chicago 
at ten-thirty p. m., July 3, "the night 
before the Fourth." The Chicago & 
Northwestern has long been known, 
through its Overland Limited, as one of 
the aggressive leaders in Californian 
transit business. 

In order to anticipate what this trip 
will be for the thousands who are to 
attend the convention, let us make the 
journey together on schedule time. 
With the cool lake breezes blowing, 
even the Fourth of July has no hot wea- 
ther terrors in Chicago, and ten-thirty is 


just the right time for retiring all good 
people in the Windy City are abed at 
that hour. 

The train pulls out of the Wells Street 
Station, over the only double track line 
between Chicago and the Missouri river, 
speeding its way toward the golden West. 
In the interior of Iowa, at Boone, on 
the Fourth of July, breakfast is served at 
eight o'clock and at noonday the Fourth 
of July dinner is eaten at Omaha, on the 
Missouri river. Then we speed across 
the prairies of Nebraska, winding up 
the day in the fertile valley of the Platte, 
and supper-time finds us stopping at the 
city of Grand Island, where the great beet 
sugar industry was initiated. Then the 
glorious natal day of Uncle Sam has 
passed for another year. 

On the morning of July 5, the special 
train arrives in Denver, and there the 
visitors look upon the Rocky Mountains 
in all their grandeur. A tour of the city 
and suburbs in automobiles and trolley 
cars is one of the features of the special 
train excursion -in the Rocky Mountain 

Colorado's magnificent Summer cli- 
mate invites the traveler to linger on 
this westward journey. The clear, in- 
vigorating air in July and August sug- 
gests the pleasures of camping out, and 
tents can be leased at reasonable prices, 
enabling the flying tourist to partake of 
the real western camping life during a 
trip to Colorado. 

The city of Denver is nearly one mile 
above the sea level, although it does not 
seem possible when looking out upon 
the great expanse of tablelands, toward 
the foothills of the Rockies, that you are 
breathing air at the altitude of 5,200 feet. 

A side trip to "Georgetown Loop" 
down the South Platte Canon, north to 
Boulder and over "Moffat Road" to 
Monmouth can be made in one day re- 
turning to the city in the evening. Mani- 
tou, known as the "Spa of the West," 
lies at the foot of Pike's Peak. It was 
named because of^the wonderful waters 
found there possessing remarkable medi- 
cinal properties. The springs are iron 
and soda, and here the tourist may drink 
natural soda water on a hot Summer day 
without the aid of the fizzing fountain. 

Who can forget the trip to Pike's 
Peak up the cog railroad, and that 
glimpse of the Halfway House? You 
know there was a classic saying, "Pike's 
Peak or Bust," popular in the early days, 

but this was before special trains were 
run for tourist parties. 

Over the Denver & Rio Grande the 
party leave in the afternoon and arrive 
in the early evening at that gem city of 
the Rockies, Colorado Springs, where 
they look upon the glories of the Garden 
of the Gods and the splendor of the 
snow-capped Pike's Peak. 

A start is made from Colorado Springs 
early in the morning, and by daylight 
the special train reaches the Canon of 
the Arkansas river. What glories of 
nature are here unveiled, for this is 
fittingly named the Royal Gorge, and 
here again the teachers and friends pull 
out note books and try to describe the 
beauty of the scene to those at home. 
Perhaps at breakfast at Salida there 
will be those world-famous Rocky Ford 
melons. Salida is a picturesque rail- 
road center in Colorado, recalling memo- 
ries of the stirring fiction written about 
western life. The ride during the day 
reveals the majesty and splendor of the 
Rocky Mountains, and off in the dis- 
tance may be seen that beautiful hotel 
nestling in the wood-crested, oval bed of 
Glenwood Springs, where we arrive at 
two o'clock. This sequestered spot is 
one of the popular resorts of President 
Roosevelt in his Western trips. In the 
great swimming baths and surrounding 
walks a delightful afternoon and early 
evening is enjoyed, and the dinner and 
substantial, toothsome supper, for which 
this hostelry is noted, bring peace and 
content to the hearts of the travelers. 

On the following morning, as though 
we had flown in an airship, the special 
train pulls into the station of Salt Lake 
City, one of the most interesting places 
we visit en route. In Temple Square 
we look upon the Tabernacle and listen 
to a recital on the world-famous pipe 
organ. Altogether it is a day which 
none will ever forget, for here we begin 
to realize what an oasis has been created 
in the barren desert of the West, in the 
blossoming beauty of Salt Lake City 
a marvel of what irrigation, energy and 
organization will accomplish. It was 
here that the "See America First" con- 
vention was held, and the influence of that 
gathering will do much toward stimulat- 
ing transcontinental travel, spurring us on 
to visit the wonders of our own land first 
before trying to "do" Europe in a six 
weeks' gallop. 

An entire day is spent at Salt Lake 


City a most eventful day it is looking 
at the wide streets and the fascinating 
sights of this beautiful place. We have 
a dip in the Salt Lake, at Saltair 
Beach, where the most timid bather is 
rejoiced to discover that he can float on 
and on forever and never sink. One 
jumps in and is suddenly buoyed up in 
the brine, and it begins to dawn upon 
the bather that the stories he has heard 
are all true. Early in the evening the 
train leaves, and in passing we have a 
glimpse at Ogden, the famous junction 

At Elko on Sunday morning, we 
have a quiet breakfast, and afterward 
every minute of the day is enjoyed, be- 
cause, rest assured that every one of the 
party on that special train is goodnatured 
and remember that Sunday is letter 
and postal writing day. Right here let 
me remark that in all my travels I have 
found nothing so essential as goodnature 
in a traveling companion, and I would 
suggest that when you make your trip 
you look around your neighborhood and 
gather together all the most cheerful, 
congenial friends you have, making a 
jolly party of people who are all ac- 
quainted. You will thank me for this 
suggestion for nothing is more delight- 
ful than a neighborhood party in travel- 
ing; they can talk it all over en route 
and keep on talking it over for years 
afterward. If you cannot collect a party 
of friends, however, you will be sure to 
find some pleasant acquaintances on the 
train. So make up your mind, from the 
time your berth is made down in Chi- 
cago, that you are going to have "the 
time of your life," and you will find the 
realization of your hopes in the flying 
days of the tour and through all the 
coming years. 

At Humboldt comes a hearty dinner at 
one o'clock, and at Truckee we have a 
typical Western supper, and every min- 
ute of the time between the two meals 
is full of interest, for the trip has 
been especially arranged, and the train 
equipped for sightseers the polite and 
genial conductors employed by the rail- 
roads see to the rest. 

On Monday morning, bright and early, 
breakfast is taken in San Francisco and 
we look out upon the placid waters men- 
tioned by Balboa, I believe, in the old 
green school geographies. By this time 
we are all convinced that no school 
teacher can properly instruct pupils in 

the geography of the United States with- 
out having traveled over at least some 
portion of it to catch the length and 
breadth of American ideas, if nothing 

A personally conducted special train 
is something of an innovation for a rail- 
road, but no one conversant with the 
management of the Northwestern Line 
will need to be told that provision is 
made for the "best of everything" a 
motto established by this road and well 
earned. So sit down and write a let- 
ter to the Passenger Traffic Manager 
Chicago & Northwestern Railroad, Chi- 
cago, and make your reservation of a 
berth from Chicago, enclosing seven 
dollars, if you wish to travel in the 
Pullman tourist sleeping car. A berth 
accommodating two persons in the regu- 
lar Pullman is fourteen dollars. A com- 
partment in the Pullman costs thirty- 
nine dollars and fifty cents, and a.dining 
room fifty-three dollars. There is a 
slight increase in these rates, to provide 
for the additional stopovers contemplated 
in the itineraries of the special National 
Educational Association trains. 

When you have made your wishes 
known depend on it your letter will be 
promptly acknowledged and tickets sent 
covering your berth or section. Railroad 
tickets are also provided for returning 
via Portland, Oregon, for twelve dollars 
and fifty cents additional, with the final 
limit of September 15, which gives abun- 
dant time for seeing California and for 
side trips to the Yosemite, San Jose, 
Santa Barbara, Pasadena, Santiago and 
the ocean resort of Los Angeles. 

The convention promises to be one 
of the most notable in the history of 
the National Educational Association. 
Prominent instructors from all parts of 
the country will be present, and there 
will be many representative and con- 
genial members of the profession to be 
found in the West-going tide of travel 
at this time. 

In addition to the pleasure of attend- 
ing the convention, are the sights of San 
Francisco Chinatown, with its theaters 
and joss houses, Golden Gate Park and 
the Pioneer Building where is an incom- 
parable collection of relics, gathered 
since the days of '49. There is the 
Mark Hopkins Institute of Art, and the 
famous Sutro baths and park, which are 
sure to be enjoyed by the tourists during 
the long days. 


There will be a trip to Palo Alto to 
see Leland Stanford University, with 
its quadrangle in the old Spanish style, 
and the University of California the 
prize places in connection with Califor- 
nian higher education. 

We get a glimpse of the trees of Cali- 
ornia, which, of course, includes the 
rich orange groves of the southern part 
of the state, and also the gaining of some 
information concerning the wonders of 
irrigation. There will be side trips to 
the big grove, where the magnitude of 
nature's lavish outlay is suggested. 

Among the delightful one-day journeys 
which may be taken from San Francisco 
is a trip to Mont Tamalpais, passing up 
the Mill Valley through the heavy for- 
ests of redwood and on up the moun- 
tains over one of the finest scenic roads 
in the country, which parallels itself five 
times in the ascent. There is also op- 
portunity for a visit to the famous gey- 
ser, Skagg Springs and Highland 
Springs, and many picturesque stage 
coach drives may be taken in Cali- 

A trip to Lick Observatory will be 
of special interest to the teachers. This 
location was chosen on Mount Hamilton 
because of atmospheric conditions at the 
summit of the mountain. The observa- 
tions taken here have added much to the 
treasure trove gathered by astronomers. 

Of course we cannot think of omitting 
a visit to Los Angeles, the sturdy metro- 
polis of Southern California, and we 
must include a trip to Catalina Island in 
the glass-bottomed boats. A trip will 
also be arranged to the ostrich farm. 
Every day will be replete with pleasure, 
and another note book must certainly be 
added to our equipment. 

Pacific Coast people are proverbially 
hospitable and cordial, and this is per- 
haps one reason why, more than of any 
other journey he has taken, a man is 
always anxious to repeat a "trip to the 
coast." He is sure to want to "go 
again" after he has once been. Then 
so many friends have moved to Califor- 
nia or somewhere in the West, that thou- 
sands of Eastern people eagerly embrace 
the opportunity for renewing old ties of 
family or friendship. 

On the return trip a party has the 
choice of routes over the Southern Pa- 
cific, returning through the famous San 
Joaquin Valley, where the traveler may 
revel among the old mission ruins and 
dream of romance. The oil fields of 

Bakersfield and the raisin country of 
Fresno are traversed by the trains speed- 
ing through seas of the finest wheat 
land in the world. Those who desire to 
return direct from Los Angeles to Chi- 
cago will be able to go over the new Salt 
Lake route and take advantage of the 
magnificent electric lighted "Los An- 
geles Limited," which leaves that city 
every day in the year, and consumes less 
than three days passing over the Salt 
Lake route, the Union Pacific and the 
Chicago & Northwestern almost a direct 
line to Chicago. Returning by way of 
Portland to Chicago, the traveler skims 
along the beautiful Columbia river to 
Umatilla, on through Idaho and the 
Snake River Valley to Ogden or Granger, 
where the line unites with the Union 
Pacific and leads back on the Overland 
route. Opportunity is also given to go 
from Portland over the Northern Pacific, 
Great Northern and Canadian Pacific 
via Minneapolis and St. Paul, and still 
find the Northwestern as the entrance to 
Chicago, from any point of the compass. 

Such a wide variety of routes is offered 
that there is no mood or temperament 
that cannot be satisfied. If you will 
think a minute you will certainly recall 
some friend now residing on one of these 
roads throughout the far extending em- 
pire of the West some friend or relative 
whom you wish to visit and in the West 
you will find the latch string always out 
and your welcome will exceed your ex- 
pectations in the hospitable homes of 
the golden West. This assurance of a 
hospitable reception and the prospect of 
seeing old friends and relatives give such 
trips a strong personal interest and will 
enthuse "neighborhood parties" to start 
out to see townsmen and relatives who 
"went West years ago." 

In this tour are also included interest- 
ing side trips to Tacoma and Seattle, 
and even a special tour to Alaska, via 
Pacific coast steamships, may be taken 
at a cost of $100 additional. This voy- 
age is especially interesting, and as the 
route lies along the inner channel hun- 
dreds of beautiful islands present a pic- 
ture of rare splendor, without the sug- 
gestion of sea sickness. The voyage 
only occupies eleven days, but affords a 
survey of the wonders of Alaska. 

The Yellowstone National Park that 
wonder of all ages past and to come is 
accessible by two roads, either from 
Parkside, the new Western terminus of 
the Chicago, Union Pacific & Northwest- 


ern line, or via Gardner on the north. 
This tour takes the visitor through a 
diversity of splendid scenery which has 
defied the descriptive power of tongue, 
pen and brush, and has been the despair 
of the artists and poets of the world. 
Such marvelous grandeur and variety are 
not approached anywhere else on earth. 
Here geysers spout at regular intervals, 
and the tourist has the panorama of the 
beautiful Yellowstone Canyon rolling be- 
fore him, as he stands a mile and a half 
above the sea level. In after days the 
memories of the "wonderful land" will 
serve to awaken the flagging interest of 
thousands of scholars, as the teacher re- 
lates scraps of personal experience 
"something which actually occurred dur- 
ing my visit to the Yellowstone." 

There is always a pleasure in telling 
others what to do on a trip which you 
have once taken yourself, and it has 
been my good fortune to take a trip to 
California in a tourist sleeper. In the 
first place, I should emphasize the fact 
that it is very desirable to be supplied 
with a note book large enough to chroni- 
cle those delightful but fleeting "first im- 
pressions," and you will find that this 
collection of impressions and chronicle 
of incidents will be food for reflection 
and awaken pleasant memories in 
years to come. You can rest assured 
you will have plenty of material to 
"scratch down." 

Then it is always advisable to wear 
heavy clothing on a trip to California, 
and take a fair supply of wraps and an 
overcoat. Have stout shoes, and, as an 
old traveler, I should earnestly advise 
you not to take a trunk unless absolutely 
necessary. Supply yourself with a good, 
strong, large suit case, which it would 
be possible for you to carry, on a pinch. 
In this way you will be always ready for 
stop-overs or fortified against any possi- 

ble miscarriage of baggage. This seldom 
occurs on well organized roads, but with 
the tens of thousands of people who will 
travel this year, you will feel more secure 
if you know you have nothing but a suit 
case to worry over. 

Once more I suggest the organization 
of special parties for this occasion, as 
adding not only to the pleasure of the 
trip, but providing an opportunity to see 
the country at a minimum expense. 
When you all return home and talk mat- 
ters over you will find you have an un- 
failing source of inspiration and pleas- 

In order to have full information, it 
will be well to send four cents in stamps 
to the Chicago & Northwestern railroad 
and obtain their printed books on Cali- 
fornia and Colorado. Then sit down 
and blue pencil a route on the map, both 
going and returning, just where you wish 
to go, and in this way you can obtain 
specific information and know exactly 
what the trip will cost you before leav- 
ing home. 

There certainly never was a more 
auspicious time for visiting California 
than during the present year, and it is 
likely to be a good long time before an- 
other convention of this size is held on 
the Pacific coast. The rates are singu- 
larly low, and one can now travel across 
the continent at the same price which it 
cost to go from Boston to Washington in 
the "coaching" days. 

After you have marked out your route 
on the map, you will find your interest 
increasing every hour as you continue to 
investigate. You will also discover that 
the realization of "a trip to California" 
during the present year far surpassed 
your expectations, and thereafter you 
will date all events in and about your 
household from "The year I went to 
California 1906.' ' 




IT is a significant fact that the commer- 
cial associations of St. Louis, Chicago 
and Kansas City have concentrated a 
great deal of attention in the last year 
upon Mexican trade. In this connection 
the National Lines of Mexico must re- 
ceive prominent notice and mention, for 
it is through the efforts of the passenger 
traffic department of that road, that the 
direct service from Chicago and St. Louis 
to Mexico has been secured. When it is 
realized that the time has been short- 
ened to fifty-eight hours from St. Louis to 
Mexico City some idea may be gained 
of what this rapid transit means in stimu- 
lating not only tourist travel to all parts 
of Mexico, but also what it is doing in 
the developing of business interests. 

I stood in the office of the general 
passenger agent in the City of Mexico 
one delightful day in January, and 
saw a party of three come in to make 
some arrangements in regard to return 
tickets. I heard the tribute they paid 
to the service, something not often lis- 
tened to behind a railroad counter. 
They could not say too much for 
the Mexican Special in which they had 
arrived direct from St. Louis over the 
National Lines. One of the ladies re- 
marked: "Why, it is no more trouble 
to come to Mexico in this way than it is 
to go to New York and how much more 
there is to see!" 

Mexico has come into prominence of 
late years not only as a Winter but as 
a Summer resort. If people could only 
know the delights of the City of Mexico 
and the Mexican mountain resorts during 
the hot months of Summer, there would 
be a reversal of present conditions, and 
instead of rushing off North in the Sum- 
mer, the comfort seeker would go toward 
the equator in Mexico. The road takes 
the tourist to Laredo, Monterey, San 
Luis Potosi, the City of Mexico 
a direct route in all directions, while 
the points of interest between these 
well-known places are simply legion. 
Then there are the branch lines, cover- 
ing all the cities and places of historic 
interest which the tourist most wishes to 
see, yet with all these advantages the 
journey is never tedious, the National 
being an air line or short line through 
Mexico. Anyone who has made the 
journey to that romantic country over 
this road will realize that nothing has 
been neglected that could add to the 

comfort of its passengers, even to the 
exchanging of money on the frontier 
for which the highest market value is 
paid and the caring for passengers who 
are unable to speak Spanish. The Com- 
pany's agents meet all incoming trains at 
Laredo and Cuidad Porfirio Diaz and 
take charge of baggage, following it 
through the custom house and rendering 
other assistance desired by passengers. 

Pullman Palace sleeping-cars are fur- 
nished, and for those who desire a water 
trip, trains are arranged to connect with 
various steamship lines. In short, the 
National Lines of Mexico supply every 
modern convenience that the most exact- 
ing traveler could expect or desire. 

This effective passenger service is only 
a forerunner of a quick dispatch freight 
system on the National Lines of Mexico, 
on which are already to be found every 
convenience and facility for speed and 
comfort known to American roads. This 
company has not only adjusted its line 
to the needs of American trade and 
traffic, but more important still, the man- 
agement has clear and comprehensive 
ideas of just what is necessary to adapt 
the road to Mexican conditions. The 
result of all this foresight and energy 
will appear in the added traffic which 
the National Lines of Mexico are bound 
to secure in the coming years. 

Those who have indefinite plans for 
a trip to Mexico "some time" must be 
made to realize that there is no time 
that is equal to the present moment, for 
the romance of Mexico is rapidly giving 
place to business realities. In order to 
demonstrate how simple a matter it is to 
arrange for a trip to "the prehistoric 
land", just drop a line to George W. 
Hibbard, General Passenger Agent, City 
of Mexico, and mention the National 
Magazine, and you will be surprised to 
see how easily arrangements are made 
and what splendid service you have at 
your command, merely for the asking. 

A trip over the National Lines, ar- 
ranged by Mr. Hibbard, will give any 
tourist an opportunity of seeing Mexico 
to splendid advantage at the least possi- 
ble cost. The only thing you have to do 
is to make up your mind and buy your 
ticket, and if you wish to make the trip 
in the quickest possible time, with the 
least possible discomfort, it will pay .you 
to communicate at once with Mr. Hib- 



ON the morning of March 21, through- 
out the length and breadth of the 
republic of Mexico, from Yucatan to 
Chihuahua, from Lower California to 
Vera Cruz, every church bell and chime 
in Mexico pealed forth its requiem to 
the memory of Benito Juarez, and a 
nation in exaltation paid its tribute of 
loyalty and devotion to its great presi- 

One hundred years ago, in a poor little 
hamlet in the mountains of Oaxaca, then 
known as San Pablo, but which now 
bears his name, Benito Juarez was born. 
He belonged to the Zapoteca tribe of 
Indians and not a drop of Spanish blood 
flowed in his veins. A son of that an- 
cient, mysterious race, whose origin no 
man knows, and which has survived 
civilization after civilization, and then 
still other civilizations, he was born in 
extreme poverty, and until twelve years 
of age, spoke only the Indian dialect in 
use in his native village, and could 
neither read nor write. At three years 
of age his parents died, and for a num- 
ber of years he led a mere existence, 
until when twelve years of age he was 
apprenticed to a bookbinder, who seeing 
the thirst for knowledge of the little 
Benito, gave him what advantages he 
could, and in a short time Juarez had 
mastered the Spanish language and made 
rapid progress in his studies. 

Thus being given a start in life, he 
was educated for the law in the city of 
Oaxaca and rose rapidly in his profes- 
sion. At twenty-seven he was elected 
to the Mexican legislature, and setting 
his feet on that pathway which led to 
glory, he experienced all the vicissitudes 
of political life in Mexico at that time, 
including arrest, imprisonment, sentence 
of death, escape, exile and amnesty. He 
held the offices of legislator, judge, sena- 
tor, governor and cabinet minister, be- 
fore he became by popular election presi- 
dent of the supreme court of justice and 
in line for succession to the presidency. 

Unquestionably, Jaurez was one of the 
greatest men Mexico has ever produced, 
and the chief glory of his public career 
was his determined effort to establish 
constitutional government in Mexico 
to make law superior to force in that 
country, and in training his fellow coun- 

trymen up to an appreciation of the 
blessings of independence, peace and 
self government, free from ecclesiastical 
control and military domination. 

Mexico delights to honor the memory 
of Jaurez, and on this, the one hun- 
dredth anniversary of his birth, is erect- 
ing statues and tablets to perpetuate his 
fame in almost every city in the repub- 
lic. The largest of these, as shown in 
the illustration, was recently unveiled by 
General Bernardo Reyes, in Monterey, 
and is an heroic figure thirteen feet and 
six inches in height from base to top of 
the head. It was designed by the well- 
known sculptor, E. McCartan, and was 
stamped from bronze by the W. H. 
Mullins Company of Salem, Ohio. This 
statue of Juarez has been pronounced by 
sculptors the finest piece of work of its 
kind ever made. Thus the reform presi- 
dent stands in bronze looking out over 
his beloved Mexico, so life-like that we 
can almost see the fire in his coal-black 
eyes, and hear the appeal for freedom 
and constitutional government that 
seems to fall from his mute lips. 

Five nine-foot statues, twenty-nine 
six-foot statues, seventy-eight busts four 
foot high, and one hundred and twenty- 
five memorial tablets of Juarez, beside 
this heroic statue, have been shipped to 
Mexico by the W. H. Mullins Company 
and were unveiled in various cities 
of Mexico on March 21, the one hun- 
dredth anniversary of the birth of the 
great Mexican president, worthy com- 
panions of that magnificent statue of 
Hidalgo, at Monterey, designed by the 
late Alfons Pelzer and executed by the 
W. H. Mullins Company in bronze, 
which is said to be one of the most 
admired statues in the Rupublic of 

May the benign bronze face of Juarez 
impress upon the 'children's children of 
Mexico his message of courage and 
loyalty to the constitution, and inspire 
them with his own burning patriotism. 
Two of the great patriots of Mexican 
history, Hidalgo and Juarez, stand in 
bronze in the city of Monterey the 
third of the "trinity," perhaps the great- 
est of them all, sits in the presidential 
chair and watches over the destiny of 






By Joe Mitchell Chappie 

GOING with us on a trip to Mexico? 
All right get aboard is your bag- 
gage checked? Now get out your maps. 

On a cold January night, we mustered, 
at the Santa Fe station in Chicago to 
begin a tour of Mexico under the man- 
agement of General Charles H. Gates, of 
Toledo, Ohio. Representing every state 
from the Atlantic to the Pacific and 
almost every American territory, we 
started, one hundred and fifteen strong, 
to attempt a peaceful conquest of that 
Mexico, subjugated by Cortez over three 
centuries ago, and now the Mecca of 
tourists and adventurous promoters and 
business men from every land. 

Our train consisted of eleven coaches, 
one baggage and the composite and ob- 
servation cars, Aztec and Fingal, the for- 
mer containing the library and bathroom 
compartments. The Mexico and Toledo, 
dining cars, and the Congo, Hebron, 
Pericles, Quebec and Lorenzo, cars all 
designated in accordance with the estab- 
lished nomenclature of the Pullman com- 
pany, gave a certain territorial character 
to the inmates of each car, which was 
both convenient and amusing. For in- 
stance one would speak of "going into 
the Congo country" or say that such a 
friend "would be found in Hebron." 

At the first breakfast everyone found 
his or her habitual seat, as if on ship- 
board for a five weeks cruise, and all 
soon became acquainted with "Larry," 
who speaks Parisian French fluently, 
although he claims to be a graduate of 
ancient and stately Heidelburg. How- 
ever that may be, there was always some- 
thing cheery and animating in his greet- 
ings as he passed up and down the aisles 
urging everyone, with hearty words and 
not less significant gestures, to "eat, 
drink and be merry." The staid con- 
ventionalities and dignified exclusive- 
ness of life were soon forgotten, as all 

became neighbors, and "dropped in" 
on each other, to compare notes "about 
the weather," the time made by the 
train, and mooted points statistical, his- 
torical and social about the foreign and 
Latin republic to which we were speed- 
ing. Whirling across the prairies of 
western Missouri, we reached Kansas 
City, where another coach containing 
the Cleveland contingent was added to 
the train and Manager Dennison, having 
made up his train to his complete satis- 
faction, we went speeding across the 
Kansas plains rejoicing in the fact that 
"Westward the Star of Empire takes its 
Way," although our course was nearer 
" South 'ard-by-West." 

I confess my first acquaintances were 
made in the library car where "Pres- 
cott's History" was constantly in de- 
mand, and was read aloud and discussed 
a great deal in those early days. What 
interested me most was to see in the 
party several young boys and girls. The 
boys, of course, were all very busy get- 
ting their camera artillery ready for ac- 
tion. I found a little miss industriously 
reading "Live Dolls," the splendid 
book written by Mrs. Charles H. Gates, 
the wife of the promoter of Mexican 
tours. In a corner was a boy deeply 
engrossed in railroad folders, while in 
another a little miss was revelling in the 
National. It did not take us long to 
become acquainted, and when she told 
me she came from Indian Territory 
and was a constant reader of the Na- 
tional, I felt indeed that the world was 
not so very large, after all. Then 
there were also several boy readers of 
our magazine, and when I learned- a 
number of these little fellows had 
planned a reception for me at San 
Luis Potosi I felt that no greater 
honor could ever be paid the National. 

At Emporia, Kansas, the gilded dome 


of the courthouse and clodded streets in 
outskirts, reminded me that here dwelt 
William Allen White, the distinguished 
editor and author, who has made Em- 
poria famous and gave the world that im- 
mortal message of "What's the matter 
with Kansas." Then on down the line 
rushed the train to Fort Worth, Texas, 
the home of the "150 Thousand Club," 
and an energetic and thriving pivotal 
jobbing and manufacturing city. 

Passing through Austin, we looked at 
sunset upon that state capitol built by 
John V. Farwell of Chicago and others 
in exchange for Texas lands, which they 
held for many years at a tremendous sac- 
rifice but finally sold at a good profit. 

Ah the way from Chicago to San An- 
tonio the traveler is constantly impressed 
by that vast empire known as the South- 
west, with its great plains and fertile 
lands, huge farms and growing towns 
and cities, which are indeed becoming 
the granaries of the whole world. 

At San Antonio sterner memories of 
the Texan revolution and of the Alamo 
massacre were awakened as we saw the 
ancient walls of the Alamo, wherein 
Bowie, Crockett and their devoted com- 
rades held at bay Santa Anna and his 
thousands until superior force and a cow- 
ardly massacre left not one alive. It was 
a greater pleasure to look upon the pictur- 
esque river winding through the heart 
of the city, and the old houses that 
brought to mind the early days of the 
Spanish conquest, and the fearless and 
heroic Texan s. "San Antone" as it is 
called, is certainly entitled to the tri- 
butes that have been paid this quaint 
city, the gateway to Mexico. Here was 
just a faint suggestion of what we should 
afterward see so much t of the adobe 
houses, and the life of Old Mexico. 

It was evening when we reached the 
Rio Grande, so fraught with memories 
of stirring scenes of border feuds and 
more ancient history. What an import- 
ant part this stream has played in the 
story of the nations! 

In the evening we crossed this great 
river at Laredo, and the twinkling elec- 
tric lights seemed to bid us welcome as 
we rumbled over the railroad bridge; 
and looked down at the sand bars of 
the Rio Grande, trying bravely to keep 
up a showing of the Spring freshet days. 

In the darkness of a Mexican mid- 
night we entered that romantic country, 
after a courteous reception from a "re- 
ception " committee consisting of Mexi- 
can custom house officers. Dr. Juan 
Francisco de la Garza, a brother of Jus- 
tice de la Garza of the supreme court of 
Mexico, is the mayor of Laredo; he 
has done much for that people. 

* * * 

In the morning, we saw the great 
shaggy peaks which on either side sur- 
round Monterey. No wonder these 
mountains are called the Sierra Madre, 
for those great peaks reminded one of 
the teeth of gigantic saws. Now, indeed, 
we felt that we were in a foreign land, 
and instantly came rushing to mind 
thoughts of General Zachary Taylor and 
his hosts, for it was near here that the 
famous battle of Monterey was fought. 
The Mexicans had entrenched them- 
selves in the bishop's palace, but the 
undaunted invaders scaled the peak in 
the rear and planted artillery overhead, 
which soon demolished the fortifications 
of the garrison. Even today one can 
hardly believe that the American soldier 
boys ever hauled those guns up the 
mountains; but in due justice to the 
Mexican people, we must recognize that 
they also fought well for their country. 

* * * 

At Monterey, a city of progressive 
policies, we first rode in Mexican street 
cars, drawn by mules driven tandem. 
The street car drivers encouraged them 
by a sort of hissing sound like a sus- 
tained "sh-sh-sh," never saying "get 
up" or using a whip driving with their 
zarapes gracefully wrapped about them. 
Here we discovered where the old horse 
cars of New York, Chicago and Boston 
had finally found a new usefulness. It 
was a novel experience to see these quiet 
Mexicans in their large hats and gay 
zarapes or shawls, which latter they fling 
about their shoulders in a fashion most 
picturesque and artistic. They always 
keep their mouths covered in the morn- 
ing, because of the cold air, as they 
greatly fear pneumonia. This gives the 
impression of being at a masked parede 
and the air of mystery and silence typi- 
fied by the hands upon the lips add 
greatly to the novelty of the picture. 
Even the driver of our street car, de- 
spite the difficulty of managing his 
prancing mules, never for a moment lost 
the dignity of his zarape. 



In company with T. Ayers Robertson, 
I went to the palace to call on General 
Bernardo Reyes, the governor of the 
State of Nuevo Leon. Young Robert- 
son is the son of J. A. Robertson, a 
business genius, the first American 
who went to Monterey and built rail- 
roads, factories, new houses, paved the 
streets, and established the sewer system 
and water works. Monterey owes to this 
man many good and everlasting improve- 
ments and he is regarded there by Mexi- 
cans with great esteem. Sentinels stood 
at attention in the saguan or hallway at 
General Reyes' offices, though their 
sabres were left in an umbrella rack 
close at hand. A beautiful airy patio 
or central court, bordered by covered 
verandas or galleries, gave access to the 
sala or reception room and other offices. 
General Reyes received us courteously, 
and his stately, erect and soldierly bear- 
ing and all his surroundings indicated 
military tastes. On the table was a bust 
of Napoleon; over his desk a handsome 
portrait of the great emperor; and I 
noticed that he wore as a charm on his 
watch chain a tiny silver bust of the little 
Corsican. On the book shelves were 
military works of all kinds and "The 
Life of Napoleon." Portraits of Von 
Moltke and Emperor Frederick adorned 
the walls. It was quite evident at a 
single glance that the governor is a mili- 
try man, though his iron-gray chin whis- 
kers and beard, black eyebrows, plain 
collar and black string tie gave him the 
appearance of the "play" type of con- 
gressman; his erect military bearing, 
however, spoke of sterner debate than 
the courteous and wordy wars of a legis- 
lative body. 

* # # 

Mr. Robertson acted as interpreter. 
I don't know what he said, but he must 
have interpreted very pleasantly, for the 
governor gave me a hearty greeting and 
spoke of his admiration of President 
Roosevelt as a man of whom the world 
was proud. His eyes sparkled as he 
paid a tribute to our chief executive as 
one of the greatest men living. He said 
he had read with great interest the books 
written by the president. I told him of 
seeing the statue of Von Moltke, recently 
unveiled in Berlin, and how it repre- 
sented him as wearing a cap, which 
seemed to interest Governor Reyes very* 
much. It was apparent to me that in 
felicitous exchange of compliments he 

was going to get the best of me, but I 
imagine that the interpreter helped me 
out, for I seemed to come off with honors 

even - * 

Governor Reyes remarked that they 
were proud of the American confidence 
in Mexico, as shown by the investment of 
so much capital in developing the great 
natural resources of the country. When 
I essayed to tell him "Joke Number 
Six," he laughed graciously and showed 
his fine teeth. General Reyes is a brave 
and fine soldier, and is regarded by 
Mexicans as the most prominent, able 
and important man among the governors 
of the states of Mexico. He has been 
secretary of war twice in the cabinet of 
General Diaz, the president of the repub- 
lic, and Reyes' administration during his 
time in the department of war is con- 
sidered as the best Mexico ever had. 
The army loves General Reyes, and he 
is looked upon as the real man after 
Diaz the power behind the throne. 
General Reyes is young, good looking, 
active, full of energies, resembling 
President Roosevelt, Emperor William 
and men of that type. He has a great 
political future. We shall have more to 
say of General Reyes in prospective 
issues of this magazine. 

* * * 

Monterey is certainly a city of pro- 
gressive ways. In a pretentious brick 
block on a corner I met Colonel J. A. 
Robertson, of whom we have spoken be- 
fore, the genial proprietor of the Monterey 
News, who publishes a handsome and 
energetic daily nwespaper, printed in 
both Spanish and English, which thor- 
oughly covers Northern Mexico. Colo- 
nel Robertson came to Monterey eight- 
een years ago to build railroads and is 
now looked upon as one of the old pio- 
neers in the building up of the country. 

The newspaper building and plant of 
the Monterey News is one of the finest 
in Mexico and certainly reflects great 
credit upon the enterprising publishers. 
This newspaper has been offering a prize 
for poems on Juarez, the noted founder 
of the Mexican republic. 

If ever there was a man in love with 
his Mexican home, it is Colonel Robert- 
son, who, by the way, presented the 
party with a case of fancy Mexican 
oranges from his farm, where he is 
helping to develop the more general 
cultivation of this delicious fruit, which 


comes into the market about a month 
earlier than that from California. 

Extensive improvements are being 
undertaken in the line of electric street 
cars, gas, sewers and water works in 
Monterey, and the city has developed 
very rapidly in an industrial way. 
There is a ten million dollar establish- 
ment especially adapted for reducing the 
refractory ore of that section. There are 
75,000 inhabitants. 

Here we witnessed a typical Mexican 
wedding, in the first Mexican cathedral 
visited and we saw a few before we 
were through. There was something in- 
describably pathetic and affecting in the 
singing of the "Ave Maria" and the 
ceremony by which the bonds of matri- 
mony were symbolized winding golden 
chains around the necks of the bridal 
pair. The bride was the daughter of 
one of the wealthiest men of the city, 
and we had a glimpse upon this occasion 
of the beauty and fashion of Monterey, 
where proud Castilian blood mingles with 
that of Aztec peons, giving out a beauti- 
ful race. 

On Sunday morning we arrived at San 
Luis Potosi. Here on the haciendas, or 
farms, we witnessed the old process of 
irrigation employed by the Spaniards 
centuries ago, and still in operation. 
The cultivation of cacti for pulque is 
a very prominent interest. One pecul- 
iarity among many of the casasde Mexico 
is the apparent indifference of the people 
to the lack of daylight in their houses. 
There are no windows in the adobe huts, 
and they seem to regard the exclusion of 

light as most desirable; high walls are 
indispensable to the humblest hut. 

The day of our arrival was said to be 
the coldest day known there in fifty 
years. The tropical trees were not as 
brilliant in verdure as they had been a 
few weeks previous. In the pla^a we 
saw the statue of Hidalgo, the celebrated 
priest whose self-sacrifice finally culmin- 
ated in the liberation of Mexico the 
George Washington of Mexico. 

A military band was playing American 
national airs and spirited rag-time music 
as our party entered the promenade, and 
we heartily cheered for more. On reach- 
ing the pla%a of course we took the best 
chairs with yellow seats and found, 
after we were comfortably settled that a 
small gratuity was expected. The Mexi- 
can bands are unusually proficient; the 
players wear yellow stripes on the arm 
and their uniforms combine green and 
red the national colors. 

The markets of San Luis Potosi on 
Sunday present an entertaining study of 
Mexican character. The vendors sit on 
the paving with their little collections of 
goods. We saw an old man with pea- 
nuts in tiny piles carefully arrayed about 
him on a blanket; an elderly lady with 
peppers; a man with corn ; a woman with 
cakes, or tortillas; and little mounds of 
yams, vegetables of all kinds and speci- 
mens of the many products of Mexico. 
Everybody was happy, for the Mexicans 
love the buying, selling and eating of 
tidbits. They live largely from hand to 
mouth, purchasing in small quantities as 
the food is needed from meal to meal. 


DRIGHT and early on Monday morning 
^* we were on the way to Tampico, stop- 
ping first at Choy Cave. Here the irre- 
pressible Larry led the way down some 
stone steps into what he called an "ex- 
tinct geyser." Larry has for many years 
resided at Yellowstone Park with "Old 
Faithful" as his companion Winters and 
Summers, and is accounted an expert on 
the subject of geysers. 

Choy Cave is a wonderland of fascinat- 
ing beauty even if the name does sug- 
gest a Chinese restaurant. Entering a 
large cavern, we found an undergound 
river rushing through it; and overhead, 
the roof, a solid mass, tells of the surg- 

ing fury of the geyser streams from which 
it was vomited in ages past. From ori- 
fices in the roof pours in the sunlight, 
which probably once shone on the open 
mouth of a monster pouring out hot and 
cold water, as Old Faithful does today in 
Yellowstone Park. As the crowd gathered 
about the underground river, we heard 
the locomotives passing directly overhead 
with clanging bell, telling how modern 
civilization had invaded even this se- 
cluded spot. 

All over Mexico abound evidences of 
industrial and agricultural awakening. 
In this district we passed through a 
colony which had left Oklahoma to settle 


in Mexico. On a commanding eminence 
was a little frame school house three 
windows on each side indicating that 
the American colony had begun to build 
their pioneer homes on the solid founda- 
tion of education. 

All along the route were the thatched 
huts of the natives walled with great 
bamboos stuck into the ground and open 
to all the winds of heaven, and yet the 
inmates seemed happy and content. We 
had many glimpses of Mexican life as 
we passed. At one mountain home we 
saw the family assembed about a dying 
goat as they watched its last struggles. 
There is no need in Mexico of the 
S. P. C. A., for animals are regarded 
almost as members of the family and 
those we saw appeared as distressed as 
though losing a dear friend. Mexicans 
are very kind to animals, and this little 
incident served to impress this kindly 
trait of their character. It was notice- 
able also that the men, as a rule, cared 
for the children. It is true that the 
women do a great deal of the rugged 
work, still the place' of the mother seems 
to be well filled by the father, though it 
strikes an American as somewhat singu- 

They seem to be happy in their 
home life, father, mother and chil- 
dren living in love and amity and cling- 
ing together, in strong contrast to our 
city life, where the demands of our 
modern civilization so often break up 
the family and its members strive for a 
time to reunite at some Summer resort 
or at the old home at long intervals, but 
too often the ardent search for wealth 
precludes the pleasure of meeting and 
the members of the family are fain to 
look forward to the hope of a heavenly 
reunion, since it is unlikely they will 
ever see much of each other again on 


* * * 

It is chimed that there are about thirty 
thousand Americans now in Mexico and 
a billion dollars of foreign capital in- 
vested in the republic, of which #750,- 
000,000 is credited to the United States, 
so you can see even by figures that our 
interest in Mexico is growing to endur- 
ing proportions. 

Down a steep embankment we climbed 
into a sequestered nook called "The 
Bridge of the Gods," where a great 

waterfall poured into, a furious whirl- 
pool. With Larry gripping our heels, 
we peered over the precipice into the 
grotto and looked upon the "Bridge." 
The water and foam surged out like 
natural fountains on all sides and then 
flowed underneath a beautiful bridge, 
the famed "Puente de Dios." Here we 
got busy in the search for souvenirs. 
Nothing would satisfy some of the more 
energetic spirits of the party unless they 
could carry away one of the young ba- 
nana trees as a specimen of the verdure 
which fringed with tropical foliage the 
borders of this veritable fairyland with 
their wavy branches. Many other rare 
tropical plants and beautiful flowers 
graced the scene. It was a place where 
one would like to recline and rest con- 
tent with pleasant thoughts and the joy 
of living. But there were three hundred 
steps to retrace, a prospect of strenuous 
effort as well as retrospect. 

Tampico has developed more rapidly 
during the last decade than any other 
port on the Atlantic coast. More than 
forty ocean steamers discharge monthly 
at this port, plying between this once 
neglected haven and Mobile, Galveston, 
New Orleans, Havana, Pensacola, New 
York, European, Mexican and Yucatan 
ports. The fisheries are of immense 
value and are being developed rapidly. 
The discovery of petroleum in large 
quantities and the development of im- 
mense plantations have added enor- 
mously to the business of Tampico. 
The city itself is located some miles 
above the mouth of the river, where 
massive jetties have so deepened the 
harbor that the largest steamers can 
enter the Panuco. 

On the beach at La Barra we had our 
first dip in the surf of the Gulf of 
Mexico. Nobody was afraid of sharks, 
but I must confess that the water was 
rather cold. 

On every side was sand. It some- 
times drifts so freely before the wind 
that it causes a blockade to the rail- 
road here just as snow might do. The 
party spent a jolly afternoon "gathering 
shells on the sea shore," feeling the 
great relief of luxurious rest after long 
days of railroad travel. In the early 
evening a bonfire was built of old rail- 
road ties, and around it we gathered and 
renewed our youth, joining with the 
children in playing tag and other juvenile 
games. Familiar old songs were sung 
in the glow of the firelight, and alto- 




gather it was an evening long to be re- 
membered. In the darkest shadows were 
the young people doubtless lost in ad- 
miration of the beauty of the Southern 
Cross. We piled on the "ties," for it 
was a night of merriment, and the 
warmth of the firelight thawed out the 
last frosty remnant of dignity and re- 
serve. Toward midnight we returned 
again to our berths on the train, prepar- 
ing for another day's wonderful scenic 
feast crossing the Tierra Caliente over 
the Mexican Central to the Tamasopo 

While most of the company were 
asleep, in the early hours of the morn- 
ing I overheard Larry and his friend 
Long, the train master, exchanging ex- 
periences and it was a case of Greek 
meet Greek, or Irishman meet Irishman. 
The impromptu dialogue was something 
that could hardly be equalled even at 
Keith's. Long talked of the old days 
when he was arrested six times a day 
for "kicking men out of the office and 
working his feet on them." Those were 
the early days when physical force 
counted, but Long has since become 
quite an influential and law-abiding 
member of society. 

All engineers and conductors, in fact, 
all officials of the great Mexican Central 
and National systems, speak English, 
and the business is conducted in that 
language, which is curious, as English 
is not spoken as generally as would be 
supposed. During the night, while lis- 
tening to some serenaders outside, we 
could hear the liquid tones of the Mexi- 
cans who had gathered about to witness 
our passing caravan. The "Si, si, 
senor," or "Si, si, senorita," seem 
especially pleasing and the pleasant 
courtesies and amenities of life are 
never forgotten by the Mexicans. 

To one in quest of information, it 
often comes from the most unexpected 
source and at an unexpected time. My 
whole purpose in writing of this trip is 
to tell of matters of personal interest 
rather than write technical description 
in detail. What I want is, not to set 
down such information as those who 
have been to Mexico shall confirm, say- 
ing "there is a man who knows how the 
words should be pronounced; he has 
been there," but rather to tell such 
things as shall enable thbse who never 
visited this land of delights to feel as 

though they had been there with us and 
had even met Larry and ^ong. 

Coming back from Tampico, across 
the great lowlands, now developing won- 
derful agricutural resources, we tarried 
in the morning at Tamasopo Canyon. 

On the terraced mountain side we 
visited a typical Mexican home, and the 
Senora invited us in to breakfast. There 
was no stove, but on a stone platform in 
one corner burned a charcoal fire and 
there eggs were boiled for fifteen min- 
utes not on the fire, but beside it. 
Over the door hung strips of tasajo 
(dried beef), and the good woman was 
very proud of the possession of a cot 
bed. Most of the people sleep on mats 
or in hammocks, or silently sit leaning 
against the adobe walls in those dark 
rooms all night. It seemed to me that 
the one thing lacking to make those 
Mexican dwellings really homelike was 
the cheery glow of the hearth, and the 
vivid contrast of brilliantly lighted rooms 
with the Winter cold and darkness with- 

Our ride over the mountains from the 
canyon was one of the most fascinating 
I ever enjoyed. The building of this 
railway line was an engineering feat of 
great difficulty. It is said that three 
engineers went insane and another died 
before the road was completed. It 
seemed impossible that the winding 
curves and precipitous grades could 
ever be traversed in safety. Over all 
the sheer, rugged passes blossomed the 
lush tropical foliage, reminding me of 
the trip to Chester Vale in Jamaica. 
Even Switzerland furnishes no more 
beautiful scenery than can be found in 
these comparatively remote spots. The 
mountain sides were yellow, below green 
sugar cane fields stretched away to the 
horizon and in the great abysses the 
rushing waters of a river swept down to 
the plain to be utilized for irrigation. 

From sea level we reached -an eleva- 
tion of from 6,000 to 10,000 feet. It was 
at this time that the young people in the 
party became greatly concerned about 
"heart action." It is said that at these 
heights the lungs and heart work twenty 
per cent, faster than "at the seaside" - 
Coney Island, for instance. But Cupid 
ploughed along at the same old gait, as 
Mr. Comstock whistled the bridal march. 

For a few short hours we rode through 
a great alkali desert, which furnished a 


sharp contrast to the delights of the days 
before. On either side of the railroad 
are seen the ruins of stone walls and 
other evidences of the civilization of 
centuries long past. One thing is par- 
ticularly noticed, and that was every- 
where the need of water. The green 
plains and fertile valleys had existed in 
Mexico long before the United States 
was founded, for here the Spaniards 
found, in the replication of Spanish 
climate and landscape, all that they 
could desire in a new world. It is no 
wonder that Mexico was called "New 
Spain" during Spanish dominion and up 
to the time of its independence. Since 
that time it has been called "May-he-co," 
please note the pronuciation! You see 
I've been there. 

At Aguascalientes (Aguas, water; and 
Calientes, hot;) are the famous hot 
springs of Mexico. The Mexican who 
runs the single street car out to the baths 
did not drive his mules fast enough to 
suit some of our party and they tried to 
show him how we drive in America, with 
the result of the constant peril of jump- 
ing the track staring us in the face. 
But whatever dangers we had to face in 
Mexico, we encountered none from the 
haste of the natives. Our party seemed 
to take it for granted that we owned 
everything with which we came in con- 
tact. The bath houses are built around 
huge pools of water which have won- 
derful medicinal qualities. 

The town is a great railroad center, 
and has the usual plaza and statue of 
Juarez which, by the way, is pro- 
nounced "Warez," and another of 
Hidalgo. It was here that the ladies 
of the party capitulated without excep- 
tion, for around the train swarmed the 
Mexican women with samples of "drawn 
work," and a great many good-natured 
husbands had to "draw drafts" on their 
account to care for the "drawn work" 
purchased, for no matter where she 
may be the American woman loves to 

Yes, I purchased some real imitation 
opals made of glass, which are offered to 
the unwary traveler. 

There were children, always children, 
on every side. Race suicide is certainly 
not a problem in Mexico. 
j * * 

The large smelting plant of the Ameri- 
can Smelting and Refining Company is 
located here and the immense amount of 
traffic it gives the railroads is almost 

beyond belief. Each Mexican city seems 
to have some one thing in the way of 
local attractions. 

In the early evening we arrived in 
Leon, the purest type of a Mexican city 
visited. Around the great plaza are 
buildings of imitation onyx, and it 
seemed curious that imitation onyx 
should be used in a country where the 
real thing can be procured. 

One never wearies of watching the 
small merchants sitting at the street 
corners, with their little oil lamps, pa- 
tiently and cheerfully waiting for cus- 

Everywhere the strong authority of the 
federal government polices the city, and 
after nightfall all policemen carry a lan- 
tern to show their location and they 
stand about like strong switch lights. 

We made another trip on the tandem 
street, cars but instead of the usual 
"Sh-sh-sh-ing" to drive the mules, horns 
were used, which sounded remarkably 
like a rooster crowing. 

Leon is famous for leather work, for 
here leathern jackets and leggings are 
made. Several members of our party 
provided themselves with zarapes and 
leggings and I found it difficult to resist 
the impulse to invest in a typical Mexi- 
can hat however, I have not had very 
good luck with my hat experiments in 
the past twelve months, so I forbore and 
clung to my Lamson & Hubbard derby. 

The hat appears to be the crowning 
glory of the Mexican's costume, literally 
as well as figuratively. No matter how 
poor a Mexican may be, if he possesses 
a richly embroidered hat, costing $50 
and upwards, he has courage to present 
himself as a possible lover before the 
windows of his sweetheart and go "bear- 
ing" with only a cage-like grating be- 
tween them. A patient wooer is the 
Mexican, but he would have grave 
doubts as to the success of his suit if 
he had not a good hat. In fact, it seems 
that in the matter of headgear the 
Mexican men occupy relatively the posi- 
tion of the American girl, for I am told 
that the most costly costume for a lady 
is utterly incomplete without a handsome 

This town shows little or no signs of 
Spanish occupation, and everything is 
more purely Mexican than in any town 
we saw. The people are of the dark 
Indian type, serene, industrious and 
with the usual affection for toothsome 


We never tired of those narrow streets 
lined with houses of uniform size and 
ventilated by very few glassless windows, 
but through the weather-beaten, open 
doors glimpses of the home life of the 
Mexicans were had. In many places 
there was a refreshing neatness, but it 
seemed curious to see them clean up the 
streets with little whisk brooms and to 
realize that they have to bring all their 
drinking water several miles on their 

We may deem their simple life 
poverty, who knows but in those dark- 
ened homes in the evening-time, beside 
the flickering candle or the feeble, old- 
fashioned lamp, that those people who 
sit about in a gloom which would be 
intolerable to us have the purest form 
of domestic happiness? They do not 
depend on the comfort or beauty of 
their surroundings, but purely and solely 
upon their own content, with simple 
living and the affections of their dear 

It is quite usual to see a little girl of 
six or seven years of age, or perhaps a 
child of ten or twelve, taking care of a 
baby, the little charge being of ten almost 
as large as the nurse. 

As we neared the City of Mexico it 
was interesting to hear different mem- 
bers of the party grappling with the pro- 
nunciation, which is simply impossible 
to get correctly until one has visited the 
country and not always then. 

The excursion went on to Marfil, and 
then up the gulch to the historic city of 
Guanajuato. Guanajuato is the most pic- 
turesque place I have ever visited. We 
took the ever-present mule railroad up 
the winding canyon with the evidences 
of old Spanish civilization on every side. 
Here also were old haciendas and water 
wheels of ancient reduction works. 
Even in past centuries these mines 
turned out millions of dollars. Here 
raged and fumed the great cloudburst 
of July i, 1905, by which several hundred 
people lost their lives. The height of 
the water on that fatal day is recorded 
on the buildings at the corners of the 
various streets, the word "inundacion" 
being painted at high water mark. 
The flood did not abate until it had 
carrried the mules from the street cars 
to- the tree tops in the park and dealt 
general death and destruction to men 
and beasts within the submerged dis- 

In the canyon going up to the town 

the road runs parallel to the innocent 
looking stream, and there are walls of 
adobe, which furnish some idea of what 
must have existed in years gone by. 

In the quaint old city we heard the 
clang of hammers putting up the great 
steel tanks for the cyanide works. Ameri- 
can capital has been largely invested 
to re-develop the old deserted workings, 
taking the ore from the dump heaps of 
ancient days when only a small propor- 
tion of the metal could be extracted by 
the ancient processes. 

On every side were evidences of the 
placid life of the peon here in a tiny 
patch of ground a few vegetables were 
growing, to be later taken on foot to the 
market, where the owner would sit in 
a sociable way and earn a few centavos 
by peddling them out in small lots. I 
must say that there does not seem to be 
any desire among the Mexicans to grasp 
from their fellows in order to enrich 
themselves. Their motto appears to be 
"live and let live," and in this respect 
I think that even the American civiliza- 
tion of today might learn a lesson. 

At the top of the hill there is a great 
reservoir to hold water for the town 
and for irrigation purposes. Surround- 
ing this is a beautiful park, where 
January flowers were blooming luxuri- 
antly. Many Americans reside here in 
beautiful homes. We took off our hats 
and saluted the English school as we 
passed. At Guanajuato our party were 
invited in to visit the home of Mrs. Ber- 
nard McDonald, the wife of the local 
mining magnate. In this beautiful house 
is a large patio, probably 100 feet 
square, about which were arranged or- 
ange and lemon trees and other tropical 
plants. Upon this courtyard all the 
rooms open, after the Mexican custom, 
but everywhere were indications of 
American taste in the furnishing of the 
library, dining room and sundry cosy 
corners. It was a great pleasure to our 
party to have this opportunity of visiting 
a Mexican-American home. 

Before taking leave, Mrs. McDonald 
gave me her card, informing me that 
she would like to have the magazine 
mailed to her, as she had not had a 
copy since leaving Spokane. 

Outside the house it occurred to me 
to look at Mrs. McDonald's card, and 
as I found no street address I inspected 
the building on the street corner and 
carefully spelled out and put down the 
inscription which I found there. I after- 

ward noticed a great many street corners 
in the cities bearing the same motto, and 
began to think that the Mexicans dis- 
played a great lack of originality in nam- 
ing so many streets alike. But finally I 
became suspicious of myself and began 
to think that perhaps I was not quite so 
clever after all. Then I took my care- 
fully written address to a friend, who 
translated it "Se Prohibe Annuncios." 
Imagine my consternation to find that 
in plain English this read, "Post No 
Bills." I am very much afraid that Mrs. 
McDonald will not receive her magazine 
addressed like a lonesome telegraph 


* * * 

We visited the catacombs, and it 
shows how little one can understand a 
country before visiting it. We one and 

all expected to find the catacombs under- 
ground as in Rome. Instead of that, we 
found them located on a high eminence, 
but a little way below the summit of the 
hill, in a long vestibule, so to speak, into 
which the visitor may look and see long 
rows of mummies standing in grim array 
in their cotton shrouds. 

The catacombs are in a large cemetery 
surrounded by thick walls, in which the 
dead are buried in a sort of pigeon hole. 
As long as the rental of their shelf is 
paid, the space is reserved for them, but 
once this money ceases to be forthcom- 
ing the remains of the departed are sent 
to the bone yard. On inspecting this 
method of burial, I wondered if we had 
not here discovered the meaning of the 
term "on the shelf," as indicating those 
who are done with life? 


AT Silao I learned that President Diaz 
was to leave Mexico, taking a special 
train, to be absent during the week in 
which we should visit the city. I knew 
it would disappoint the readers of the 
National if I did not see the president, 
so I arranged to leave the party and go 
to Mexico City to see him off on his 
presidential trip, and the dispatcher 
kindly helped me to make connections. 

Alone with myself! alone in Mexico! 
None of the passengers spoke English, 
but I was delighted to hear the conduc- 
tor say "Damn that door," as he pinched 
his finger. 

At Irapuato there were strawberries 
strawberries every day in the year. 
Everyone about the station had straw- 
berries for sale. I ate nearly a whole 
box of the sweet fruit, and doubted if it 
could really be in the middle of January. 
My Spanish fellow travelers were merry 
fellows, ever ready, it seemed, for a 
laugh or a joke, and how lonesome it 
is to hear other people laugh and not 
know what they are so merry over? It 
impressed on me the fact that if we are 
ever to solve the question of trade rela- 
tions with the Latin countries, we must 
master their language. It is more im- 
portant that Spanish should be taught in 

pur schools than that we should dabble 
in half a dozen 'ologies, for the future 
points to closer trade relations with the 
South than we have even across the At- 
lantic. The Panama Canal will be a 
powerful factor in bringing this about, 
and it is surely important that our youth 
should be capable of conversing intelli- 
gently with their Latin neighbors. 

Upon arrival in the City of Mexico 
the visitor finds a modern, bustling busi- 
ness metropolis. The street car service 
is equal to that of any city in the United 
States, and the fare six centavos or 
three cents is collected by the conduc- 
tor and tickets are afterwards punched 
by an inspector. The price of the fare 
is indicated in big red figures on the 
checks, which everyone must carry and 
have ready at all times for the inspector, 
so no cash register rings in the Mexican 
street cars. 

It was a wet, cold day, reminding one 
of Paris in Winter. The asphalt pave- 
ments glittered with a glassy stare and 
reflected the dashing cabs. I was look- 
ing for the American embassy, and wan- 
dered down the street that looked most 


likely to have an embassy on it, and 
finally approached a staid, good-natured 
policeman, pronouncing the name of the 
place I wanted. He handed me a piece 
of pencil and asked me to write out the 
name. I was somewhat at a loss, for the 
closest I could get to the spelling was 
Caltolcipapatopi. It is unnecessary to 
say that I did not have the name spelled 
right. Toward the end of our conversa- 
tion the policeman rather nonplussed me 
by remarking in excellent English that 
he had served in the Columbian Guard 
at the Fair, and I doffed my hat in 
memory of the awful majetsy of the boys 
in gray of '93. 

In Mexico the dignity of the solider 
of early days is reflected in the police, 
who are armed with revolver and club 
and wear most impressive official head- 

o o o 

In the embassy were portraits of Mc- 
Kinley, Roosevelt and Diaz. The office 
looks out upon a fountain, in which 
bloomed calla lilies under sombre sur- 
roundings of cypress trees. 

At the embassy I found Mr. R. D. 
McCreery, Ambassador Thompson had 
not yet arrived. Mr. McCreery has had 
an extended experience in embassies in 
Latin countries, having served some 
years in South America and Mexico. 
The American Embassy at Mexico on 
Buena Vista street, as in all other cities 
that I have visited, occupies compara- 
tively mean quarters as compared to 
those provided for the diplomats of other 
nations. Here Germany, England and 
other countries strengthen their influence 
by appropriate consideration for the dig- 
nity of their embassies, while our own 
government seems to display a shameful 
penuriousness in the matter of providing 
a suitable home for the representatives 
of our flag. 

In a large room, heated with a gas 
stove, for it was cold in Mexico City, 
the elevation being something like 8,000 
feet I found the American representa- 
tive. There were many indications that 
he was doing all he could to advance 
American trade and interests. 

o o o 

Later, on the same rainy day, I called 
on Secretary of the Treasury Senor Jose 
Ives Limantour in the National Palace, 
with letters from Mexican Ambassador 

Don Joaquin D. Casasus at Washington 
to President Diaz. 

This palace stands on the most inter- 
esting of the many historical spots in 
Mexico. Here stood the home of the 
hapless Montezuma and also that of 
the doomed Maximilian, who gained a 
throne in Mexico only to lose all and 
die under the Mexican rifles at Quere- 
taro. The palace is a long, low build- 
ing. President Diaz has his office 
there but resides elsewhere. In the 
large waiting room are bevelled ceil- 
ings while on the wall paper was 
depicted the eagle with a serpent in its 
talons, the national emblem of Mexico. 
Handsome vases decorated the corners 
and a Japanese screen stood before the 
door leading to the secretary's private 
office. A large number of visitors waited 
to see the secretary, among them promi- 
nent and wealthy Mexicans, one of 
whom, the Pierpoint Morgan of Mexico, 
was telling how he had sold a property 
for $600,000 for which he paid $300.000 
ten years before. This was certainly an 
indication of the rapid advance of values 
in Mexico. 

Secretary Limantour speaks English 
well and has visited the United States 
many times. In some respects he re- 
sembles Secretary Shaw in appearance. 
He is a tall man, wears side whiskers, 
and has blue eyes. His splendid teeth 
are particularly noticeable. His pleas- 
ant and affable manners add much to 
the pleasure of a visit. His room, filled 
with books, and the large table littered 
with papers, and the typewriters inces- 
santly turning out Spanish documents, 
indicated that the secretary is a busy 

An interesting story is told of Secre- 
tary Limantour, who began as govern- 
ment clerk and worked his way steadily 
upward, always absorbed with the great 
purpose which he has since achieved. 
When he officially received his first com- 
mission, he hastened to take it to his 
mother. During all the storm and 
change of the cabinets Secretary Lim- 
antour and Minister Mariscal have re- 
mained with President Diaz, and it is 
significant that these two men speak the 
English language and have a wide 
knowledge of the United States. 

In chatting with Secretary Limantour, 
it was interetsing to hear of the brilliant 
financial outlook throughout Mexico. 

One thing which impressed me in re- 


gard to Mexican finance was that the 
mining companies and other corpora- 
tions are under-capitalized to about the 
same extent that corporations in our 
country are over-capitalized. Bank fail- 
ures in Mexico are practically unknown, 
as the government keeps close watch on 
all such concerns by nominating an in- 
spector for each bank. His power and 
authority is almost unlimited. 

The National Bank contains $2,600,000 
in twenty-dollar U. S. gold pieces, as 
well as over $1,500,000 in bar gold. The 
United States now has $2,000,000 in 
Mexican gold to be converted into Mexi- 
can coins, so you see we are making 
money for them in more ways than one. 
All these facts make it easier to realize 
something of what has been accomplished 
by this modest but capable secretary of 
finance, Jose Ives Limantour. 

Back of all this, in every other depart- 
ment of the government, one recognizes 
the strong and firm hand of President 
Diaz, whose power may be as absolute 
as that of the Czar of the Russias, but is 
always exercised for the good of the peo- 
ple and the nation. President Diaz is 
a man who neither loves nor hates, but 
always administers strict justice tempered 
by a patriotic love for his countrymen. 
Minister Mariscal of the department of 
foreign affairs, occupies a building near 
the bronze equestrian statue of Charles 
IV of Spain, said to be the largest statue 
in the world. The secretary is deeply 
interested in educational questions, and 
I greatly enjoyed hearing his views. The 
reception room, darkened to about the 
same degree of gloom that one sees in 
similar apartments in Washington, was 
handsomely and tastefully furnished and 
decorated with panelled ceilings and 
mural paintings. Minister Mariscal also 
speaks English, for he served some years 
as ambassador in Washington. He was 
very cordial and it is impossible, after 
meeting with such men, not to realize 
that there ought to be close commercial 
amity between the republics of the United 
States and Mexico. While American 
capital is welcomed to develop the coun- 
try, it must be remembered that Mexi- 
cans are patriotic and feel the same spirit 
of patriotism toward their country that 
Americans do toward their' s. 

Minister Mariscal has bushy, black 
hair and always wears a silk hat. He 
has a genial smile and impresses one as 
being as typical a Spaniard as Secretary 
Limantour is a Frenchman. He has 

been a long time in charge of the foreign 
affairs of his country. 

The best tribute that can be paid to 
both Secretary Limantour and Minister 
Mariscal is that they extend every cour- 
tesy possible to foreigners. They are 
especially to be congratulated on the 
splendid work that has been done in the 
upbuilding of the republic. Mr. Liman- 
tour is a very important man in Mexican 
politics; but he refuses to run for any 
office, limiting himself to his remarkably 
fine work at the finance department. 
Still he is General Diaz best adviser, 
and his opinion in home and foreign 
matters is much respected. He has 
placed the credit of Mexico very high, 
and if he wished to be a candidate for 
the presidency after Diaz, he could have 
the chair if it were not for his French 
origin, as the constitution of Mexico re- 
quires for president a native Mexican 

Desiring to call up the American Em- 
bassy by telephone, there seemed to be 
nothing in the book that even approached 
"American Embassy," though I looked 
long and carefully. Finally I found that 
it read something like this: 

Embajada de los estados Unidos de 
America, Buena Vista Numero 426. 

It never occurred to me that this meant 
the embassy of the United States of 
America. It was really novel to hear 
the little telephone responding to the 
"Buenos" or Mexican "Hello," and I 
had a sudden sense of surprise that the 
wires carried Spanish just as easily as 
our own jagged, lightning English. Once 
connected on the wire, however, how de- 
lightful it was after the experience of 
those first few days to talk broad Eng- 

The great event at the American em- 
bassy is Fourth of July, on which occa- 
sion President Diaz attends the celebra- 
tion and mingles with the throng in a 
sociable and affable manner. There is 
always "something doing" among the 
members of the American colony in 
Mexico, which has all the vigor of 
American life. The American Club is 
also certainly one of the most hospitable 
and sociable rendezvouses to be found 
any where. 

It was a rare privilege that meeting 
with President Diaz. At the suggestion 
of Minister Mariscal, I got up early, at 
five o'clock in the morning, to be at the 
train to see the president. I arrived 




a little after six and found the station 
already thronged with officers resplendent 
in gold lace and carrying sabres and 
side arms, while all I carried was an 
umbrella. The military hats were flat 
across the top, having a braid brought 
over the crown, the green ribbon pre- 
vailing in all decorations. The hearty 
greetings between the various officers 
made it a social occasion. Mexican gen- 
tlemen when meeting their friends throw 
their arms about each other, patting them 
on the back three or four times. Of 
course I felt rather lonesome in this 
friendly throng, not hearing a single 
word of English, but it was an excellent 
opportunity to study the personnel of 
the Mexican army, which at the present 
time numbers about 25,000. In this 
group of brilliantly arrayed gentlemen, 
I felt somewhat out of place attired in 
my plain Summer overcoat and carry- 
ing no side arms other than a 35C um- 
brella. An object of conspicuous atten- 
tion, I wished for a more gorgeous array. 
I was enabled while waiting for the 
presidential party, to inspect the train 
one of the handsomest special trains in 
the world, made, of course by the Pull- 
man Company. It was colored a brill- 
iant green, with yellow panels on which 
were emblazoned the letters "JR. M." 
standing for Republic of Mexico. The 
wheels were painted red. The brass 
railed observation car contained special 
folding steps, which were lowered as 
the heralds announced the arrival of 
the president. 

Mrs. Diaz, a charming lady, educated 
at Georgetown Seminary, near Washing- 
ton, was attired in crimson with hat to 
match her dress. She took the arm of 
Secretary Limantour and was conducted 
to the car followed by Minister Mar- 
iscal. The band played the national 
air and hats were doffed. My hat went 
off with the same degree of reverence 
that it would have done for the "Star 
Spanged Banner." The Mexican na- 
tional air is only used on very special 
occasions, by permission. 

The president was attired in a light 
gray cut-away business suit, and wore 
lavender gloves. In some respects he 
resembles Admiral Dewey. His hair 
and moustache are gray and he wears 
the former in pompadour style. His 
bearing is quiet, but in his eyes may 
be seen the dynamic force and power 

of the man. The presidental salute was 
fired, the signal given and the presiden- 
tal train of Mexico left the depot with 
President Diaz bowing to the cheering 
throngs. It suggested to me the leaving 
of the presidential train from Washington. 

I was very sorry that I could not have 
made this trip, but realizing that no one 
of the party except Mrs. Diaz spoke 
English, I thought it might, after all, be 
pleasanter for all concerned to remain 
where I was. 

The presidential trip was to Yucatan, 
the first time that the president has ever 
visited this state, and it was a trip of 
great political significance. It is some- 
what isolated and is only connected by 
water transportation and the narrow 
coast line to the republic. The enthu- 
siastic reception given President Diaz 
shows the importance of the chief ex- 
ecutive keeping in touch with all the 
people and the singular popularity of 
Porfirio Diaz. 

In Merida, Yucatan, they spent thou- 
sands of dollars in making a special dis- 
play for the president as he passed 
through. He evidently made this visit 
with the same purpose that President 
Roosevelt and McKinley went to the 
South when they sought to gain the 
affection and confidence of the people 

* * * 

President Diaz does not speak English 
at all, but I should judge that he has 
a very clear understanding of the lan- 
guage, as it is said that when one of the 
interpreters tried . to smooth over the 
irascibility of a certain American during 
an interview, the President evidently 
understood perfectly. The horse- voiced 
American insisted, "Why don't the old 
fool do it?" The interpreter softened 
down to "He is very grateful to you." 
But when the interview was concluded 
and the American and the interpreter 
were retiring, the president called back 
the official and said, 

"You are a very good diplomat, but 
an inaccurate interpreter." 

The wife of President Diaz is the 
daughter of Mr. Manuel Romero Rubio, 
a lawyer and politician, on whose head a 
price was set in the early stormy days, 
but the animosity against him was mel- 
lowed somewhat when the president fell 
in love with the daughter. The father 


has since proven a strong upholder and 
bulwark of the "republic. 

o o o 

President Diaz lives six months of the 
year at Chapultepec, at the historic 
"Grasshopper" castle, the military 
school of the nation, and the other six 
months in Mexico City. His city resi- 
dence for years has been his private 
house at No. 8 Cadena street, where I 
saw a puffing automobile waiting in 
front, indicating the universal adoption 
of this modern vehicle. There is so 
much to say about General Diaz, his life 
and doings, that we promise to our read- 
ers a special number later with articles 
concerning him and his men which will 
be of great interest, no doubt. 

o o o 

As to the sights in the City of Mexico: 
The whole city is replete with interest, 
and weeks, nay months, might be spent 
therewith profit. The National Museum 
is filled with interesting relics which it 
would take a good-sized catalogue to 

There is the cathedral, with its historic 
memories, near the Main Plaza, diagon- 
ally across from the palace. 

The first place discovered by the ladies 
of the party, after they had been settled 
in the historic Hotel Iturbide with its 
oriental rooms looking out into the court- 
yard was the Thieves' market, which 
still retains its name. It is the place 
where stolen goods were brought in 
order to make disposition of them, but 
it is not to be assumed that the wares 
now displayed for sale are obtained by 
burglary, but the quaint name makes 
it a popular place for the purchase of 

The government operates a pawn shop, 
Monte de Piedad, in which it is possi- 
ble to obtain an advance, on almost any 
article at a low rate of interest, but they 
accumulate a large quantity of material. 

Hotel Iturbide is a massive old pile, 
built of stone, which has stood for cen- 
turies and seems likely to be the stop- 
ping place for many more generations 
of excursionists. Near here the ladies 
found the headquarters of the Sonora 
News Company, which carries one of 
the largest line of antiquities and curios 
of any company in Mexico. The store 
near the Iturbide hotel is a veritable 

Of course we did not omit a visit to 

the La Vega canal, but it was difficult 
to even picture in fancy the glories of 
the floating islands of Montezuma's day. 

The cabs of Mexico City are of two 
classes, indicated by carrying a red or 
blue flag. The red flag cabs charge fifty 
cents and the blue one dollar per hour. 

Mexico has a strong paternal govern- 
ment, and in this as in other matters 
keeps in close touch with all business 
operations in fact, an inventory of all 
business must be ready for govern- 
ment inspection at all times. The City 
of Mexico reminds one of Washington. 
There are squares in which statues have 
been erected, and the great avenue called 
"Paseo de la Reforma" is a handsome 

An incident showing the warm hearts 
and affectionate nature of Mexicans oc- 
curred on the street car on which we 
happened to be. A mother with a baby 
and four other children got in. She 
stood with the baby in her arms and the 
other little ones sat on the floor. The 
car gave a sudden lurch and the mother 
and baby fell sprawling over the chil- 
dren, but there was not a whimper from 
them. They extricated themselves very 
quicky, helped her to rise, and then 
rushed to the baby, kissed the infant 
again and again, overjoyed to find that 
he was unhurt by the little mishap. It 
is by these little impressionistic pictures 
that we get the real glimpses of the 
Mexican people. 

Every city seems to have its Guada- 
lupe, who is the patron virgin saint of 
Mexico. A story told of one of these 
sacred spots is that an Indian visited 
his bishop, claiming that he had seen 
the Virgin Mary, who had appeared to 
him upon a certain hill and told him to 
direct the bishop to build a chapel at 
that spot. He feared to obey, and the 
apparation visited him the second time 
near the same spot, at a certain spring, 
which is now held in sacred reverence. 
At a third appearance she directed him 
to fill his tilma, or mantle, with roses, 
which as a proof of the truth of his story 
the man brought to the bishop. As no 
roses grew there the bishop was induced 
to open the tilma containing them, on 
which was found a perfect picture of 
the Virgin, and it is claimed that this 
identical tilma, framed as a picture, is 
now treasured in the church. This par- 
ticular Guadalupe is a town near the 
City of Mexico, on a very high hill. 
In the church below is an altar rail of 


solid silver, said to be the most valuable 
in the world. In a room in the church 
is a collection of crutches, which pil- 
grims have thrown away when they have 
tested the healing virtue of the waters. 
There is a long flight of steps near the 
church, up which the penitents crawl on 
their knees. In the cemetery on the top 
of the hill the famous Santa Anna is 
buried, but the wooden leg which he is 
said to have worn is preserved in the 
Washington museum. Here in this cem- 
etery is buried also the first wife of 
President Diaz. 

At Guadalupe the people come to the 
old church, where they get water and 
carry it for miles on their shoulders, and 
it was curious to see the circular place 
worn out by the feet of the many persons 
coming and going around the holy well. 
This reminded us of the water carriers 
at San Luis Potosi, who drew water from 
the fountain. They use tin cans with 
four partitions, about a foot square, hung 
from a stick thrown across the shoulder 
with ropes, and it was amazing to see 
what weights were carried by mere 
lads. When they had the water cans 
properly balanced they started off on 
a dog trot. The women carried large 
jars on their heads, nodding with their 
eyes to a passing acquaintance. 

o o o 

It is worth while to have a chat with 
an American who has lived in Mexico, 
for nothing gives one such clear ideas of 
the country. It is a singular fact that 
few men ever care to leave the republic 
who have once made their home there. 

One of the ablest men in Mexico is 
Mr. F. R. Guernsey, editor of the 
Mexican Herald, a bright and enter- 
prising morning newspaper, printed en- 
tirely in English. He has resided in 
Mexico nearly twenty years, and few 
men are more thoroughly posted on the 
affairs of the republic. His editorials 
are always able and comprehensive. 

Mr. Robert Barrett, the proprietor of 
the Evening Record, is another Mexican 
newspaper man, and one of the energetic 
pioneers. I need not say how much I 
enjoyed meeting brother publishers in 
a strange land. 

o o o 

We much enjoyed watching the horse- 
men and elegant carriages on Indepen- 
dencia street in the pleasant afternoons. 
The magnificence of the new public 
buildings to be constructed in the city 

is amazing. There is to be a large na- 
tional theatre. A new post office building 
nearly completed. The Mining Museum 
is a large building in front of which are 
the meteors that fell some time ago. 
They are like solid steel, weighing many 

I observed an old building which has 
been standing for three or four hundred 
years; it sags three feet in the center 
and yet stands perfectly safe. 

An earthquake occurs in the city 
about once a year, but it does not seem 
to create any consternation as the shak- 
ing is very slight and sometimes almost 
un noticeable when it occurs during the 
night. Sixty-eight blocks of asphalt were 
laid last year and the city is expanding 
very rapidly. No city is more noted 
for its beautiful and historic suburbs, 
o o o 

The party spent a whole day at Guada- 
lajara, the second largest city of Mexico. 
It is called the city of sunbeams. Its 
attractions were discovered by tourists 
only a few years ago, but since the 
Mexican Central has pushed its road 
through, this city has become a favorite 

From Guadalajara the party visited 
Lake Chapala. The boats on the lake 
are hollowed from huge trees, some 
being so very deep that passengers are 
obliged to sit on the gunwales in order 
to get a view of the scenery. Six boat- 
men poled the boat going to windward, 
but returning used a square or lug sail. 

o o o 

Of course you have to attend a bull- 
fight in the City of Mexico, if you wish 
to make your tour complete. I solemnly 
assert, however, that I had not the least 
desire to go to this festivity and that it 
was the most miserable and saddest ex- 
perience in my whole series of excur- 
sions. The one blot on my trip to 
Mexico is those few hours at the bull 
fight. For two or three nights afterward 
I could not sleep, and regretted that the 
sight of the Maestro Matador Antonio 
Fuentes, walking out of the hotel on 
Sunday, had beguiled me into attending. 
He was clad in green and gold, wore his 
hair in a picturesque little queue behind, 
had trunk hose and buckled shoes and 
seemed to shimmer and flash all over. 
No wonder such a "get-up" was too 
much for me. 

Like the traditional boys following the 
circus, after Fuentes got into his 


Illustration bv permission of W. H. Mulli 


carriage we found ourselves not far be- 
hind, full of the excitement of going to 
a somewhat doubtful sport, and hardly 
knowing just what to expect. This frame 
of mind kept anticipation on the stretch. 
We were soon seated in a box on the 
shady side, and I almost expected to 
hear the strains of Carmen the roaring 
refrain of the Toreador song. The pro- 
cession of horsemen and footmen moved 
across the arena to where the president 
governed the various ceremonies by 
bugle calls. 

It was certainly a most picturesque 
glimpse of old Spain. The bands played 
and the people were all excitement and 
anticipation. After the first entry, put 
from the opposite door came the raging 
bull, and first with their mantles and 
then with red flags the bandilleros began 
coaxing him to battle. He lowered his 
head and pawed the earth. The animal 
was in prime condition for the fight, 
as for days before everything had been 
done to heighten his natural ferocity. 
Pierced through his back was a spike to 
which was attached a ribbon, indicating 
the hacienda where the bull was bred. 
The men threw and dragged their man- 
tles, and then jumped aside as the bull 
charged at them, and a good many of 
them, I noticed, jumped over the fence 
rather speedily. Picadors with lances, 
on blindfolded horses, spurred in front 
of the enraged animal, and he was per- 
mitted to gore them without giving the 
poor beasts a chance of defence. Have 
you ever heard the cry of a horse in 
pain and dying? My indignation arose 
and I felt that I would almost rather 
have seen the men gored than these poor 
defenseless beasts. I was told the bull 
must have blood in order to get him to 
the right pitch of ferocity, and it looked 
as though the people also must have 
blood in order to amuse them. 

Again and again the horses were 
gored, and again I turned and looked 
out on the beautiful, placid mountains 
and wondered why human beings should 
enjoy looking upon such a scene. The 
cries of those horses will ring in my ears 
for many a day to come. 

After this began the placing of the 
banderillas. The banderillero stood with 
two of the slender shafts tipped with 
sharp steel spikes and decorated with 
paper roses, ribbons and leaves. As 
the bull rushed at him he thrust two of 
these into the infuriated animal's neck, 
one on each side of the shoulder. Then 

the man stepped nimbly aside and 
waved his hand to the throng. This 
part of the show was repeated several 
times, and then if the bull did not keep 
up the fight with sufficient vigor to 
please the audience, banderillas contain- 
ing fireworks were placed at his back. 

A bugle sounded, the matador took his 
flag and straight sword and prepared to 
end the tragedy. He carefully calculated 
the movements of the bull, and it was 
here that the science of the matador 
came into play, though his share of the 
work could hardly be called as pictur- 
esque as the work of the picador, or as 
tragic as the part played by the poor, 
gored horses. It looked to me as though 
the picadors were in more peril than the 
matador himself, though I suppose it is 
difficult for an inexperienced onlooker 
to estimate the degree of skill required. 
The sword was drawn as the infuriated 
animal advanced, and the thrust de- 
livered as swiftly as the lightning flash. 
Sometimes it happens that one blow is 
sufficient, and again it may require sev- 
eral before the unfortunate brute is des- 

If a bull happens not to be fierce 
enough, the crowd on the benches freely 
express their opinion very much as the 
bleachers would do at a ball game. It 
is a critical moment when the brute and 
the man look each other in the eye, for 
this is the death test. It sometimes hap- 
pens, I believe, that a bull is possessed 
of a peaceful disposition and refuses to 
fight, thus unconsciously saving himself 
from a painful death in the arena. In 
such cases the crowd jeers and the bull 
is taken out of the arena by means of 
a small herd of steers. These are driven 
in, and when the bull hears the jangling 
bells, he peacefully follows them out, to 
live in pastures green. 

It was noticed by our party that the 
matador waited until the bull came at 
him with death in his eyes, and that he 
was ready to plunge after the red flag or 
cape rather than at the man. There 
was something theatrical in the way 
Fuentes plunged his sword into the 
animal, then inarched around with a 
stagey step and threw back the hats, 
cigars and other trophies that were 
showered upon him from the amphi- 

The band played, the matador bowed, 
the crowd wore a satisfied air; but after 
one animal had been done to death, I 
felt that I had had enough and did not 


desire to remain any longer. I after- 
ward learned that four bulls were killed 
that afternoon. As I passed down the 
steps, and left the arena and its gore 
behind, I thanked God that there was a 
national game in the United States 
known as base ball, which appeared to 
me to be a mild and gentle amusement 
compared to the slaughtering of bulls 
and the goring of blindfolded horses. 

The matadors rode back to their hotels 
in a carriage, still arrayed in their brill- 
iant uniforms. They leaned back, pla- 
cidly smoking their cigars. I was told 
that they receive enormous salaries and 
usually come from Spain, receiving as 
high as $25,000 for a brief series of 

The amphitheater on that Sunday was 
not half filled, and if the signs of that 
day are any criterion, it looks as though 
bull fighting in Mexico would soon be 
a thing of the past. I would earnestly 
and honestly advise anyone going to 
Mexico NOT to see a bull fight. No 
part of the entire trip do I look back 
upon with regret except that hour 
which I spent at the bull fight. 

o o o 

One of the most delightful retreats in 
the City of Mexico is the Hotel Sanz; 
an old Spanish mansion handsomely 
fitted up as a hotel under the mangement 
of Mr. Hubert A. Hall, an American 
who long since made his reputation as 
a host. It was a special pleasure to 
meet Mr. Hall there, for in years gone 
by I had known him when he first 
started on his hotel career. The same 
evidences of good taste and the desire 
to make guests comfortable, was appar- 
ent here as has always characterized 
Mr. Hall's management. 

The patio, or court, was radiant with 
tropical foliage and the splashing foun- 
tain made constant music, whether one 
sat in the snug balcony rooms or in the 
cafe. It was entertaining to watch the 
arrival and departure of tourists. Here 
was the absorbed rush of the man just 
from the States. We were told it was 
very easy to single out new arrivals, be- 
cause after people have been there for 
a month or so they acquire something 
of the dignified Spanish manner and 
cease to hurry. One of the most sig- 
nificant comments I have ever heard on 
the American "hurry habit" was made 
on a Chicago man, who rushed into a 
Mexican office to do business quickly 

with some Mexican business man, and 
it was evident he was in a real hurry. 
The Mexicans were not, and tried to 
get him into a more composed frame of 
mind; and when he had concluded his 
business and hurried away they glanced 
expressively at each other and one said, 
with a shrug of the shoulders, "A Yan- 

This evidently was ample explanation 
in their minds, and nothing more was 

Every American is a Yankee in 
Mexico, whether he hails above or 
below the Mason and Dixon line, which 
is father hard on the high-strung Mis- 
sissippians and Virginians, though they 
soon get to appreciate the distinction of 
being real Americans. 

In the open air of the Sanz hotel, amid 
the music of the fountain and the glint 
of the goldfish, I almost forgot my na- 
tionality and imagined myself a great 
Spanish grandee, residing in an ancient 
Spanish mansion, and, no doubt, uncon- 
sciously adopted something of the stately 
walk and conversation suited to the 

It required a good solid five days to 
see even a few of the sights of Mexico 
City, and as the high altitude seemed to 
affect a good many of the party, we 
planned a quiet day at Cuernavaca, the 
home of Cortez, and the real beautyspot 
of Mexico. Can I ever forget that day? 
What a ride that was up the mountains, 
looking out upon the great plateau be- 
low and down upon the shimmering 
lakes, Chapultepec looming up in the 
distance, the battle ground of centuries. 
We passed the battle ground of Molino 
del Rey, which means the king's mill. It 
was here that the last battle was fought 
in what General Grant called "an unholy 
war." There is no disposition on the 
part of Americans to point with special 
pride to the achievements of American 
arms in the days of '47. It was a 
pathetic sight to look upon the monu- 
ment erected over the graves of the 
American soldiers who lost their lives 
there. Despite the mistakes made by 
our people in times of war, the spirit of 
patriotism is accentuated by visiting for- 
eign lands, but let us remember that the 
very same spirit exists among the peoples 
of other countries. The patriotism of 
the Mexicans is certainly inspiring. At 
Molino del Rey their soldiers fought 

bravely, and there is a small monument 
there to their memory. 

It was here that we saw an aged lady 
praying at the grave of one who had 
been buried long years ago she was an 
American mother. As she looked upon 
the old flag, the Stars and Stripes of the 
Union, a little child approached and 
asked: "Is that God's flag?" 

"No, my child," said a bystander, 
"It is not God's flag but the flag of 
God's country." 

At Ajusco we had our first glimpse 
of a trooper of the Second Regiment of 
Rurales, the mounted police of Mexico. 
It is said that most of the Rurales were 
brigands years ago, until Diaz brought 
them into line and made them sturdy 
defenders of the republic. Fearless men 
they seem to be in their fight for law and 
order, and the audacity they displayed 
as outlaws is still apparent, though di- 
verted into a better channel. 

One of the great anchorages of the 

future of the Republic of Mexico is in 
the fact that the present generation do 
not know how to fight as they did in 
olden times, when a man with a gun and 
a horse and pistols was considered to 
have completed his education. That 
state of chaos has given place to a very 
different state ot affairs. In the old 
days a man could throw up his hat and 
create a revolution, but that is all past, 
because the present generation has no 
disposition to fight, knowing there is 
more to be gained by maintaining the 
stability and aiding the progress of the 
republic than in seeking to tear down. 

Looking down from the Sierras upon 
the valleys and plateaus of the country, 
one is reminded of Switzerland. Over 
the mountains we looked upon the an- 
cient home of Cortez, surrounded by 
rugged peaks. The crater of the Horse- 
shoe, an extinct volcano, is close by, 
covered with trees and peaceful in its 
long slumber. 


lA/E rode off in the red stage coach to 
** Hotel Morales, one of the gem hotels - 
of Mexico. This is an old house built by 
a Mexican general, and was the head- 
quarters of the brigands, and yet, under 
the touch of an American hotel man the 
veranda was gay with flowers and foli- 
age. From the flat roof the view was 
one never to be forgotten. Page after 
page of the "Conquest of Mexico" came 
to mind. Over in the distance was the 
old yellow-tinted cathedral, mottled with 
age, with gables festooned with gigantic 
purple logumbillas, the beautiful flower 
of Mexico which ! have never met with 
elsewhere. To the left was the palace 
which Cortez built. The whole atmos- 
phere was perfect, and we could have 
imagined ourselves looking upon an 
oriental scene. 

At Cuernavaca I enjoyed a visit to the 
public school, where the boys all sat 
in one building and the girls in another. 
The rooms for the various grades were 

divided by a thin partition. I looked 
around and saw, among other things, the 
flaming picture of a stout goddess kick- 
ing lightning from the sky. The instruc- 
tor asked me what I thought of it. 
Without too plainly expressing my opin- 
ion of the work of art, I said that in 
American schools we had pictures of 
Washington. Lincoln and other cele- 
brated men, with whom it was advis- 
able to have the children familiar. He 
said, "I am glad to know that. This 
picture has often worried me." 

On the ceiling was a map of Mexico, 
and the little fellows turned their heads 
up to study their geography lessons. It 
seems, however, that natural history is 
the most popular study in Mexican 
schools, sometimes to the exclusion of 
other subjects. 

The little boys seemed to look upon 
me as a very strange individual, but I 
took the liberty of speaking to them. I 
am sure they did not understand my 


words, but in their bright eyes I saw the 
gleam of welcome. Depend upon it, 
these little fellows in their school are 
acquiring knowledge which is going to 
be the great sheet-anchor for the future 
of the republic. As they prepared to 
leave the room they all lined up in mili- 
tary fashion, giving the salute as they 
passed their teacher and me. As the 
first came by and held up his hand I 
thought he was anticipating centavos and 
was appalled at the prospect, taking a 
hasty review of the state of my finances 
at the moment. But I found it was only 
the military salute. 

# * * 

Over on the hill are the famous La 
Borda gardens, laid out by a famous 
miner who spent a part of his millions 
here. The avenues and arbors, the walks 
and lakes show the immense amount of 
money which must have been lavished 
on this garden. Borda died suddenly 
without revealing the secret of the place 
where he had buried the bulk of his 
money, and the entire place has been 
torn up by searchers for the treasure, 
without success. 

We had a delightful ride over the road 
built by Cortez to his hacienda, on the 
backs of burros, for no wagon wheel 
ever whirred over these rough cobble 
stones. This estate we were told still 
remains in the Cortez family. Here a 
large sugar mill was at work squeezing 
the juice out of the cane. This juice 
runs into vats, and the sweet scurn 
drained froni it is -used in the production 
of alcohol. The juice, after it is boiled 
down is placed in cones of clay and some 
sand is put on the top to filter the water 
which bleaches the sugar, so the old joke 
about having "sand in the sugar" may 
really have some foundation. The sugar 
then comes put nearly white and is taken 
out of the jars and sun-baked, later on 
being prepared for the market. The 
cooling process, in the vats, is done in 
a very dark room built of masonry. This 
old hacienda has been in operation for 
several centuries. 

Riding on the backs of burros is not 
exactly a thrilling adventure, but the 
"herrike" and "andela, burro" of the 
drivers gave a glimpse into the Spanish 
language. I placed my heels behind the 
ears of the mule and felt quite secure. 
How those little burros' legs climb the 
mountains bearing the burdens they do 
is a marvel. All goods are transported 
on mules or burros, or on the backs of 

peons. The old stone bridges with wide 
entrance, under which dashed the water 
of the mountain streams fringed with 
water cress, were particularly pictur- 

If there is a cave or anything else 
picturesque about the country with 
which Cortez did not have something to 
do, we failed to find it. He certainly 
must have been a wonderful man if he 
did even the half that is credited to him. 
We had no difficulty in understanding 
why Mexico should have won the affec- 
tion of the Spanish conqueror. 

At San Antonio, across the gulch, we 
drove to the famous potteries, where the 
people live in little huts and work in the 
same old way as in centuries past. Cuer- 
navaca pottery attracted a great deal 
of attention and won much favor with 
our party. Here the famous church is 
located where young people who have 
trouble with their sweethearts come to 
have matters adjusted. 

Down in the deep canyon, and clam- 
bering up the hill, is the old city, redolent 
of the atmosphere of ancient days. The 
view of Cuernevaca and San Antonio 
from the mountains is superb. It seemed 
to me if I ever wanted a place to go 
and rest, far away from the bustle of 
American activities, it would be Cuer- 

I stood on the balcony where Cortez 
looked down upon his achievements. 
The stone had been worn hollow where 
it is said the sentry was in the habit 
of sharpening his sabre. 

Back again to the Hotel Morales, to 
the old brick floors, the casement wind- 
ows, the balconies outside overlooking 
the trees of the park that seemed to ask 
admittance; we looked out once more 
on the sun setting upon that scene 
which had inflamed the ambitions of 
Cortez, who, after he had made the con- 
quest of Mexico, preferred to make bis 
home here, rather than return to his 
native land. 

I almost forgot to mention that famous 
mountain known as Popocatepetl, which 
name was tjie supreme test in our spell- 
ing lesson in days gone by. In Mexico, 
however, I met with another mountain 
called "Istha see Wattle," that is, the 
name is pronounced just like that, but 
I will not undertake to spell it The 
only way that I could remember it was 


by remembering "seawall" as a mnemo- 

While in Mexico I had the pleasure 
of meeting Mr. Kong Yen Wei, who was 
making the tour of Mexico, and is study- 
ing the ruins of Mitla, with the hope of 
proving that the Aztecs and the Chinese 
are of one race. He is much encour- 
aged by the result of his labors, and con- 
siders that he has been very successful 
in his research. It is most interesting to 
hear him tell of his ambitions and hopes 
for China. He said: "I will lead my 
countrymen out of slavery and awaken 
the Chinese nation from its sleep." 

He remarked that China had formerly 
been among the progressive nations, but 
now is satisfied to dream life away. In 
speaking of his research at Mitla, he 
seemed to be convinced that there were 
distinct proofs that the ancient Aztecs 
and the Chinese were closely related to 
each other. The celebrated Chinaman 
is now making a tour through South 

o o o 

"The Hill of the Grasshopper" is the 
name given to Chapultepec, because it 
stands on a great cliff of- porphery rising 
200 feet above the valley. The name 
was given by the Aztecs in 1279. 

There is an old tree near the city 
which is seventy-two feet in diameter. 
A statue of Liberty is being erected at 
the foot of the Avenue de la Reforma. 
The castle has been built where Monte- 
zuma's palace once stood, and it is here 
that President Diaz resides six months 
in the year. It is surrounded by a cy- 
press grove, the trees of which are all 
draped with Spanish moss. 

Mexicans complain of the imposition of 
a head tax on the foreign merchants who 
come to the United States to buy goods. 
The fact that they are prohibited from 
coming across the border unless they 
pay this onerous head tax is not only in 
itself repulsive to a free people, but it 
seems like pretty small business for 
Uncle Sam to enter upon with his neigh- 

There may be some good reason for 
the practice, but it is not one of which 
Americans can be proud, nor does such 
treatment appeal to the common sense 
spirit of a business nation. 

o o o 
As the climax of our scenic tour we 

started bright and early for Esperanza, 
where we saw the highest mountain peaks 
and the crowning peak, the old giant 
Orizaba. That ride down the mountain 
can I ever forget it? We were fortu- 
nate in having a clear day, for often- 
times these trips have to be made in a 
heavy mist which soaks the traveler 
through, without actual rainfall. We 
seemed to just curl around the great 
peaks, looking down into the abyss to 
see Maltrata. This is a purely Indian 
village, and the great valley laid out 
before us looked like a checkerboard. 
The drop is thousands of feet in a few 
miles. Near Maltrata is Boca del 
Monte. The Mexican railroad, which 
is called "The Queen's Own," and 
boasts of steel ties throughout, was one 
of the first roads in Mexico, and cer- 
tainly runs through mountain scenery 
unparalleled for beauty in the wide 
world. The precipitous descent, made 
safe by air brakes, gives the passengers 
a sensation very like the "coasting" of 
our youth. 

o o o 

Many of the small cities in Mexico 
have maintained socialistic or commun- 
istic ideas, which might commend them- 
selves to the advocates of such doctrines 
in our own country. All lands are owned 
and worked in common. It sometimes, 
however, happens that there is a diffi- 
culty in getting each man to do his 
proper share of the work, for even under 
socialistic rule some men are lazy and 
some industrious. Socialism does not 
seem to change human nature. In cases 
where the man whose turn for work has 
come does not show up, the town crier 
calls him publicly by name, so that 
there never is any doubt as to who is 
needed. But the work does not seem to 
come hard on anybody, for eating and 
living, living and eating makes up their 
existence. If .this is the future we have 
to look forward to, it certainly is not 
without its attractive aspect, and possi- 
bly when the socialistic community in 
Mexico becomes better known, we shall 
have all our Yankee socialists emigrat- 
ing to that favored spot, 
o o o 

Before leaving, the City of Mexico, 
I felt I must pay a visit to where the 
founder of the republic sleeps, in San 
Fernando cemetery, and look upon 
the tomb of Juarez. In this same 
place are buried many generals, 
two of whom died with Maximil- 


ian, and for whom he gave his own life. 
At the gate of the cemetery was an old 
veteran of the wars with the French 
when the Mexican republic made its last 
and final stand for independence and 
a republican form of government. 

Everywhere it is evident that the peons 
are picking up English, and many of 
them understand what is said, even if 
they cannot speak the language. The 
public schools and compulsory education 
are doing splendid work. 

At Orizaba we saw some of the largest 
cotton mills in the world, and also had 
a delightful glimpse of tropical vegeta- 
tion. We looked once more on markets, 
cathedrals and plazas, three things which 
are always necessary in a Mexican town. 

Here Larry Matthews had a most 
striking snapshot picture taken in the 
market place, as he claimed to have 
found a long lost relative. Here were 
offered for sale radishes over two feet 
long, yet as juicy as the youngest and 
smallest of their tribe, and there were 
wonderful onions tender and mild. 
When I say I ate sixteen onions at 
one meal I hardly expect to be believed, 
but everyone was free to revel in them, 
because in Mexico everyone eats them 
and they are not offensive. 

On my way back from the market I 
made my first acquaintance with Mexi- 
can chili. It was in a small cake, with 
potatoes, onions, peppers, tabasco 
plenty of it and cheese mingled, and 
possibly other ingredients. I ate it, but 
I spent two mortal hours trying to cool 
my mouth afterwards. It was certainly 
the hottest thing I ever consumed, or 
ever expect to, but when once I had 
started on it, I was determined to 
finish. Ever since that time I have a 
great deal of sympathy with the cadet 
who was treated to a course of tabasco 

Here, also, were busy Mexicans of the 
ancient type, happy in chattering over 
their little wares, or content with their 
simple luxuries. It was a peaceful pic- 
ture of barter and exchange. Here many 
of the ancient costumes might be seen. 
They were very simple, merely a piece 
of cotton cloth wrapped about them and 
draped in artistic manner, making a 
complete though seamless garment. 

Underneath a white umbrella I found 
a German artist who told me how to see 
a sunset properly. I was instructed to 
turn my head to one side, shut one eye 
look only through the other. 

At Orizaba a member of the party 
captured a cactus, another secured an 
armadillo, while parrots became very 
popular. It was interesting to note what 
the different members of the party de- 
cided to carry home as trophies of our 
tour of Mexico. 

Cordoba is another typical Mexican 
city, near which we lunched on a coffee 
plantation under the trees. We began 
to feel the change from the cool atmos- 
phere of the table lands to the hot and 
sultry lands of the tropics. Across this 
part of the country Cortez made his fam- 
ous march to the city of Mexico. 

Puebla, is apparently one of the best 
built modern cities of Mexico. At the 
arcade, near the plaza, American goods 
were almost exclusively sold. The 
cathedral is one of the handsomest in 
Mexico. There was the customary Sun- 
day band concert. 

Some fine specimens of onyx were 
purchased at this place by members of 
our party. 

A few hours' ride from Puebla is the 
famous old town of Cholula, which to me 
was one of the most interesting places 
that we visited, for it was here that 
Cortez, with the help of his Tlaxcalans, 
conquered or massacred the ancient in- 

Tlaxcala, though a little city, is replete 
with relics of ancient times and mem- 
ories of Indian warriors who joined Cor- 
tez in conquering and enslaving the 
people of Anahuac. 

The first Roman Catholic church in 
the new world was erected here in 1524; 
here for the first time the gospel of the 
Cross was preached, and here began the 
Spanish impress on Mexico which is so 
apparent to this day. 

Tlaxcala is the place where Aztec 
hieroglyphics were read. Larry insisted 
on calling them "hair-lip-ticks." He was 
never particular about pronunciation, 
whether Spanish or English, though the 
rest of the party were rather proud of 
the progress made in Spanish. It was 
a sight never to be forgotten to see Larry 
wave his arms in the air and talk Span- 
ish with the natives. It was especially 
noticeable at the time he was trying to 
get an extra mule for one of the ladies, 
for he always took special care of the 
fair sex. At one time it was rumored 
that he was a bachelor, but there came 
a day when he told us about his bright 










little daughter and his good wife. 
We watched his efforts' in the mule- 

fetting business with deep anxiety, and 
nally inquired what language he was 

"Muley-Mexican, but I'll get what I 
want just the same, it I have to use 
cowboy classics," and he did. 

Larry always provided us with the best 
and freshest of everything, from sweet 
corn to strawberries, and we always en- 
joyed watching him in the markets. He 
was an excellent buyer, and with all his 
other virtues was the most lovable, 
sweetest-tempered Irishman I ever met. 
He never lost his good nature and was 
always ready with his mother wit. He 
was the prince of good fellows. What 
Larry could not tell us about Mexico 
and the Yellowstone Park was not 
worth knowing, and he had a way of 
describing the various points of interest 
that made a guide book quite unneces- 

The ruling spirit of our excursion was 

Mr. H. C. Dennison, our capable man- 
ager, and under his careful guidance 
everything was so well managed that we 
did not know it was managed at all the 
whole thing seemed to go like clock 
work and none of us knew of the trouble 
he must have had in getting trains, etc., 
to come along on schedule time so as to 
make connections as arranged. The 
fact that in this tour of 8,000 miles we 
made every place on schedule time and 
returned on the dot, is certainly an indi- 
cation of the thoroughness of the man- 
agement of the Gates tours. 

Then there was Father Pruden, the 
Pullman conductor, always up late and 
early to see that his family got home all 
right. He never did less than his best. 
We did not run out of gas for lighting, 
although we had to economize on a long 
jump of nine days. I was interested to 
see him digging cacti at the foot of 
Mount Orizaba. He said he was going 
to present them to the park in his home 
at Elgin, Illinois. 

BACK to the City of Mexico once more, 
and we felt as if we were almost natural- 
ized citizens of the D. F., which means 
Federal District like our district of 

The New York Mutual Life building 
here is interesting in every detail, 
equipped with elevators ; here the Mexican 
Central railroad has its general offices. 
It was a pleasure to call on Mr. E. C. 
Hudson, the vice president of the line, 
and Mr. W. D. Murdock, the passenger 
traffic manager; one cannot think of 
going to Mexico without using this great 
system, so ably and efficiently managed 
in every detail. 

The pleasure of meeting Mr. George 
W. Hibbard, the passenger traffic man- 
ager of the National Lines of Mexico, 
was a glow of early days. Long years 
ago I will not say how many, out of 
consideration for Mr. Hibbard, but 
when halftone engravings first came into 
use, I had an idea of issuing a special 
edition of a certain country daily. It 
was planned on an elaborate scale. Mr. 

Hibbard was then passenger agent of 
the South Shore Line, and had already 
brought into prominence the trip along 
the south shore of Lake Superior. He 
knew just how to obtain the best photo- 
graphs for halftone illustrations and how 
to choose the good writers, so I made 
bold with youthful audacity to sug- 
gest that he should engage space in my 
special edition. He was somewhat skep- 
tical, and looked me up and down, prob- 
ably thinking that for a young country 
editor I had a good deal of confidence. 
Finally he agreed to my suggestion, and 
the South Shore went into the special 
edition. It was indeed a gratification to 
learn in later years that this rather crude 
article had resulted in attracting the at- 
tention of travelers in the far East, lead- 
ing them to make a trip over that line. 
Mr. Hibbard has all the force of those 
early days, and puts it in the work of the 
line which he represents. It is char- 
acteristic of his career that he has the 
fastest train running from St. -Louis to 
Mexico making the distance in fifty- 


eight hours. This is going to do more 
than any other one thing to weld to- 
gether the business interests of the 
United States and Mexico, because when 
merchants realize that they have so large 
a market close at hand, and when the 
tourists understand that such a wonderful 
country lies near by ready to be explored, 
there will be an immense traffic to 
Mexico, Winter and Summer, for as a 
delightful Summer recreation point, the 
City of Mexico is not surpassed. 

It seems curious to me that, although 
we passed the Tropic of Cancer, as duly 
indicated by a monument, and entered 
the torrid zone, yet in this country on 
the table lands may be found the finest 
Summer resorts in the whole world. 
This statement will be confirmed by 
everyone who has been there. If you 
want an ideal place to visit next Sum- 
mer, remember that you can find it in 
Mexico. This may sound paradoxical, 
but it was certified to by no less an 
authority than Secretary Limantour, who 
assured me that the City of Mexico was 
more preferable as a residence for the 
Summer than for the Winter months. 

o o o 

It seemed a very strange sight to see 
lottery tickets on sale on the street cars. 
Some of the party invested, but the re- 
turns are not yet in. 

It was entertaining to visit the theaters 
and hear the plays produced in Spanish. 
If anyone wants to see only one act of 
a play, he simply pays for that act and 
no more, and for two or more acts in 

At Orrin's circus the performance 
demonstrated how Americans can enter- 
tain other nationalities, even when they 
do not understand the language spoken. 
It was all pantomime, but as graphic as 
words. This circus was established by 
a circus clown, and is run the whole 
year around and proves the universality 
of the sense of humor Mexicans evi- 
dently enjoy the very same things that 
amuse Americans from all sections. 


The political parties in Mexico seem 
to be divided into the Liberal and the 
Clerical, although there is little differ- 
ence when it comes to the recognition of 
the ability and greatness of President 
Diaz. Vice President Corral, formerly 
governor of Sonora, is a man thoroughly 
in touch with American methods, and 

is looked upon as the logical successor of 
President Diaz. He is a business 
man and a very pleasant gentleman. 
The whole government and constitution 
of Mexico is very similar to that of the 
United States. Each state has its own 
governor and its legislature, as repre- 
sented by the members of the lower 
house and senate. 

One anecdote of Diaz spoke very 
plainly the character of the man he 
refused to repudiate a bad loan made 
by his predecessor and maintained the 
national credit. 

The whole trend of present legislation 
in Mexico seems to favor the encourage- 
ment of foreign capital to develop in 
conjunction with Mexican capital the 
great natural resources of the country. 
In fact, it is difficult now to meet the 
demand for wild lands. The larger tracts 
are held by Mexicans, and it is impos- 
sible to deal with them without involving 
the purchase of at least fifty or a hun- 
dred thousand acres. The land is taxed 
very low in fact it is not assessed at 
all, as only the products of the land are 
taxed. Mexican legislators believe in 
taxing what the land produces rather 
than the land itself. When one con- 
siders the wide variety of resources in 
Mexico, as so plainly displayed at the 
Pan-American and at St. Louis cover- 
ing almost every kind of mineral and 
every kind of wood, and all sorts of agri- 
cultural products known to the human 
race, some idea may be gained of the 
wonderful resources of the republic to 
the south of us. 

In the later days of Mexico's develop- 
ment its history is replete with chronicles 
of strong and rare characters. There was 
Braniff, the Irish section foreman, who 
died a millionaire and was prominent 
in the building of early railroads of 
Mexico. Agramonte, the well known 
soldier of fortune who was formerly a 
general and fought in sixteen wars, is 
now editor of the Anglo-American. 

The temptation must be resisted to 
linger in the capital of the ancient Teno- 
chtitlans. We left on the line of the 
Mexican Central, retracing our steps. 
On - the way back we visited the ruins 
of Tepasteco, on the road from Cuer- 
navaca, an experience never to be forgot- 
ten by any member of the party. It was 
a difficult climb, but no one wished to 
omit a visit to the old pyramid built 
probably two thousand years ago no one 
knew just when, not even Larry. At the 


base of the pyramid is a row of sepul- 
chres for the Mexican chiefs. Of course 
this reminded us all of Egypt. This 
pyramid is said to be the temple of the 
god Ahuizotl; it is composed of four 
stories reached by broad staircases, 
the first being situated at the south end 
of the first story. This leads to the 
sacrificial stone, where human sacrifices 
were once offered, the heart being taken 
out, probably for divination purposes. 
A small tank is near at hand, where 
the dismembered remains were placed. 

* * # 

What a scene was presented as we 
first looked down upon Zacatecas. It 
might have been a glimpse of Jerusalem 
or some Eastern city, Ispahan or Merr, 
so oriental in style was it. The great 
flat-roofed, battlemented buildings were 
painted in oriental hues, the streets were 
narrow and winding, all situated in the 
midst of a great, barren plain. The city 
is reached by a beautiful ride up the 
mountain to an elevation of 8,000 feet. 
The plain somewhat suggested the wide, 
rolling prairies of the West, flanked with 
mountain peaks. Zacatecas is a great 
mining center. The houses are painted 
in all the colors of the rainbow pink, 

reen, yellow, etc., the outside of the 
wellings being decorated so that they 
looked as though they were spread over 
with wall paper. 

As we wandered down one of the 
streets a most fascinating feature was 
the old, deserted fountain, where the 
surrounding stones were worn hollow by 
the feet of the thousands of people who 
have come here for water through cen- 
turies past. We noticed also that the 
undertaking establishments were un- 
usually conspicuous, displaying their 
sample caskets of all sizes and colors 
with great variety of decoration. Here, 
too, was the large cathedral, with its 
facade of beautiful carving, which was 
an object of special study to the tourists, 
though, you will understand by this time 
we had seen so many cathedrals, plazas 
and markets crowded into so short a 
space of time that our appetite for 
these sights was becoming somewhat 

Chihuahua the last two syllables must 
be pronounced with a good round "wow 
wow" which indicates the bark of a 
dog is famous for its dogs the world 
over. They are tiny creatures when first 
purchased, but if the owner is not care- 



ful they shortly develop to the size of 
a burro. 

It was here that I called on Governor 
E. C. Creel, whose palace is at one cor- 
ner of the plaza. On the second floor, 
opening out of the spacious courtyard, 
in rooms furnished with all the comforts 
of modern times, I had a delightful 
visit with the governor. He speaks 
English very fluently and seems to 
thoroughly understand Americans and 
their methods. It was pleasing to hear 
him pay a just tribute to General Luis 
Tarrazas, for eighteen years the governor 
of the city. The first thing that he 
talked with me about was the great work 
which they have done in the way of pub- 
lic schools. Out of a budget of $1,000,- 
ooo, over one-third, say $400,000 is spent 
on schools with 20,000 scholars and 216 
school buildings. 

General Luis Tarrazas is the largest 
single land owner and cattle owner in 
the world, possessing 6,000,000 acres, 
and he is also one of the most remark- 
able characters of the republic. He 
fought vigorously in the wars with 
France, and won the famous victory of 
March, 1867. He is seventy-seven years 
old, and has twelve children; his four 
boys have been educated in the United 
States, and the eight daughters speak 
English fluently. 

Governor Creel also mentioned with 
some enthusiasm the new Kansas City 
& Orient Railroad, which is being put 
through the state of Chihuahua by Mr. 
Stillwell of Kansas City, and is opening 
up a vast amount of important terri- 

The following morning, in the light of 
a gorgeous sunrise, we again looked 
upon our native land. Across the river 
from Juarez was El Paso, the great gate- 
way and trading post of the Southwest. 
If there is any city where you feel the 
infectious enthusiasm of American push 
and go, it is here at El Paso. Here I 
fell in with Mr. Wilmarth, of the El Paso 
Herald, and Mr. George C. Clement of 
the El Paso News. 

The wonderful growth of this city is 
one of the marvels of Western push. It 
has eleven railroads, and within a radius 
of 250 miles of this one spot over $50,- 
000,000 worth of mineral is mined an- 
nually. This is startling when you con- 
sider that the entire agricultural resour- 
ces of Iowa are only $100,000,000. This 
is also one of the great supply places of 

One of the picturesque characters of 
the state of Chihuahua is Pedro Alva- 
rado, a little man something over five 
feet in height, with black eyes and hair. 
He is a pronounced Indian type, is 
about thirty-seven years of age, and is 
often called "Pete" by the Americans 
in Parral, where he lives. 

His father was the owner of a mine, 
and in the early, struggling days the son 
worked there with other Mexicans, wear- 
ing the zarape and moccasins. At one 
time he owed $70,000, but while follow- 
ing the lead of his father, who subse- 
quently died, he struck a bonanza and 
now rides down to his mine in a car- 
riage, with his family, and collects 
$8,000 every week. 

Strange to say, he has never visited 
the City of Mexico, as he has not yet set 
foot outside his home state. He once 
went to Chihuahua on a special train of 
regular day coaches to be present at the 
dedication of a church which he had 
built, costing upward of $100,000, for he 
is a devoted Roman Catholic. 

On the site of his humble home, in a 
somewhat unpretentious part of the city, 
Alvarado has erected a handsome resi- 
dence costing over a million dollars. 
The mansion has all modern improve- 
ments, almost every room being provided 
with a bath room, where Russian, Turk- 
ish and shower baths may be taken. 
There are also a number of fine pianos 
and an Aeolian pianola, for Alvaredo 
is a great lover of music. A story is 
told of a German peddler who had gained 
the confidence of the rich mine owner, 
and came into his presence with a tray of 
diamonds, asking him to purchase some. 
Alvarado asked what the entire contents 
of the tray was worth, and on being told 
$1,000 he promptly paid for them and 
locked them into his safe without so 
much as another glance at the gems. 

His wife was somewhat older than 
himself; she died about a year ago, leav- 
ing a family of three small children. She 
disliked Americans as much as her hus- 
band does, and it is said always called 
him away if she saw him speaking with 
anyone of Americanesque appearance. 
It is said after the death of Madam 
Alvarado, four hundred $1,000 bills were 
found between the mattresses of her bed. 

Alvarado never employs Americans, 
but has a galvanized German who does 
his bookkeeping. His offer of money to 
pay the national debt and interest of 
Mexico was not accepted, though doubt- 


less made from an impulse of pure pa- 
triotism. The mining magnate transacts 
all business at his own home, and 
scarcely knows that the United States 
exists though he is quite sure of Texas. 

The mines in and around Parral have 
been worked for centuries. It is said 
that John Hayes Hammond, the noted 
mining expert, known all over the min- 
ing world, and especially in connection 
with South African mines, was refused 
admittance to the mines by Alvarado, 
who has refused an offer of ten million 
dollars for his mining property. 

The modest young magnate has little 
idea of the value of money, and his wants 
are simple, though he is very fond of 
jewels. He speaks no English, and his 
one dread seems to be that some day his 
mines will have another owner and pass 
away from his family. 

Parral is located fifty-six miles from 
the main line of the Mexican Central, at 
Jimerez, and is the center of extensive 
timber and water power, as well as of 
mining development. Several American 
companies have heavy interests here. 

At Monterey we called on Consul- 
General Hanna, who served for many 
years in the American consular service, 
and now has charge of the nation's inter- 
ests in Northern Mexico. He resides in 
a typical Mexican home, where he has 
his large law library out on the veranda, 
and works in the courtyard. He has 
made a splendid record in the service, 
and is popular and highly respected by 
the Mexican people and the government. 

When I made my call on President 
Diaz at the National Palace, I passed 
under the old liberty bell, which is sus- 
pended over the entrance. Then I was 
escorted to the second floor, walking 
through long corridors handsomely fur- 
nished with massive chairs. The 
walls were decorated with portraits of 
Hidalgo and various paintings com- 
memorative of the adoption of the con- 
stituton of Mexico. 

At the end of a long corridor is a glass 
partition screen in front of the room of 
the president. I was under the guid- 
ance of Captain J. O. Monastero, who 
acts as interpreter, and it was indeed a 
pleasure to learn that the captain was 
one of the Mexican commissioners at 
the Louisiana Purchase Exposition and 
spent almost a whole year in St. Louis 
at that time. He enjoyed hearing of the 
wonderful interest in Mexico awakened 
through the handsome exhibits which 
the republic has provided at the various 
American expositions. 

The president is always very busy, and 
visitors merely call for a few minutes to 
pay their respects. This was the day 
after his arrival home from the trip to 
Yucatan, and was indeed a rush day; 
but never for one moment, under any 
circumstances, does the true Mexican 
forget civility and courtesy, and from 
what I saw of President Diaz the more 
profound was my admiration for one of 
the great characters of our time a 
noted man in the history of the world 


By Joe Mitchell Chappie 

OFF to the great canyon, on the line of 
the Santa Fe, on which we traveled all 
the way to Chicago. Our next stop was 
at Adamana, to visit the famous Petri- 
fied Forest of Arizona. Arriving there 
early in the morning, we drove six miles 
to the famous forests. Here lives Pro- 
fessor John Muir, the discoverer of the 
celebrated Muir Glacier and the guide 
of President Roosevelt to the Yosemite. 
Professor Muir is a man who has given 
his life to the study and investigation of 
the mountains of the world, and it was 

indeed fortunate for us that we had him 
with us on our trip to the Petrified 

He expects to remain here for a year, 
and has a modest little cottage, painted 
green, and already filled with specimens 
which he has secured after hours and 
days of hard work. He is adding much 
to the information of the scientific world. 

If there ever was a place laid bare for 
the delight of the tourist and the research 
of the scientist, it is these forests. 

Across the great plain of sage brush 


and rabbit grass, passing over several 
streams with quicksand bottoms, we 
came suddenly upon the first forest. 
Strewn about were logs of jasper and 
agate; in one place a large tree, per- 
haps three feet in diameter, spans a 
chasm as a bridge. These trees appar- 
ently did not grown there, but were 
tossed down and embedded in the marie, 
in which may be seen shells and other 
relics of prehistoric times. The logs 
have lain there for ages, as they were 
probably washed down from the great 
cliffs or buttes. They are crumbled 
about in fantastic shapes, with the heart 
and bark of the tree plainly visible. We 
had a busy time looking about for speci- 
mens; it has never been computed how 
many tons of curios have been carried 
away from the forest. 

Professor John Muir is a man of per- 
haps sixty years of age, with full beard 
and a kindly glint in his eye that 
reminded me of John Burroughs, with 
whom he went on the famous Harriman 
expedition. I was talking with him and 
became so interested that I came near 
being left in the petrified wilds, but 
Larry soon caught the bell rope and the 
wagon train was halted until I joined the 

Mr. Muir's two daughters were with 
him picturesque, healthy western girls, 
wearing cowboy hats decorated with red, 
and heavy gloves. They drove with the 
party to the forest and seemed perfectly 
at home in the wilds of the Bad Lands. 

As I stood on an eminence with Pro- 
fessor Muir, he took out his glass and 
looked at the specimens, and the com- 
putation of a few thousand years did not 
seem to worry him in the least. He 
directed my attention to the "Robber's 
Roost," which was at one time the favor- 
ite resort of thieves or "rustlers," and 
also pointed out the Black Forest, where 
better specimens were to be found. The 
country about is called The Bad Lands. 
In the first forest the trees are highly 
colored, but in the Black Forest the 
colors are comparatively dark. It was a 
strange and fascinating sight. When 
specimens gathered are submitted to the 
art of the lapidary, and polished, the 
beautiful markings of the stone are 
brought out and it shines like a piece 
of onyx. Few people looking on these 
specimens realize that they are actually 
slices of petrified prehistoric trees. The 
Petrified Forest has truly been called the 
"God's Acre" of the trees. The stone 

wood glitters like jewels in the sunlight 
in that barren spot, relieving the desola- 
tion of the prairie seas around. 

It was amusing when we first arrived 
at the forest, to note the general rush 
for specimens, but like children gather- 
ing flowers, our party kept throwing aside 
the specimens first collected as they 
came to something which pleased them 
better. We went from spot to spot, and 
kept picking up new specimens at every 
turn until we had the real rocks. 

One thing is especially striking in 
thinking of a forest, one naturally pic- 
tures the trees standing. Now 'do not 
go to the Petrified Forest with any such 
idea, because the giants are all lying 
prone upon the ground, swept down ages 
ago in some maelstrom of a great sea, 
the waters of which have long since 
vanished and the bed of the ancient 
ocean n'ow lies bare to the gaze of the 
world changes wrought by the mysteri- 
ous forces of nature. 

The party seemed to feel richly repaid 
for the day in the Petrified Forest. It 
is a surprise, for, no matter how many 
descriptions you may hear, it never can 
be understood until it is seen, and you 
have picked up the rocks yourself. 

From Williams to Flagstaff I rode on 
an oil burning locomotive, number 1,006. 
She was a giant Baldwin's make. When 
the great six-wheeler started it seemed 
like a mighty battleship going into the 
smoke and steam of the conflict. There 
was our little engineer, pushing the lever 
with his feet, and with his hand on the 
throttle. He wore white gloves; the 
fireman sat on the other side as de- 
murely as if at a church social, finger- 
ing the little valve to "stoke up." He 
remarked: "Seven men and a boy would 
have been needed to coal an engine for 
that grade, but now oil does it." 

Up the grade she went and over can- 
yons, with the artillery rolling about us 
in the mountains, and the engineer 
seemed to be like a man going into 
battle, intent only on one thing going 
ahead. No thought of possible danger 
for himself, but intent on having the 
train on schedule time. 

We flashed by the red lights of the 
trains at the sidings, on into the snow 
belt of the hills, still on and on rushed 
i, 006, fed by the pipes of the life-giving 
oil. This was a startling ride for me, 
for I am not so young that I cannot 


remember when the old wood burners 
were in use, with their wide open fun- 
nels, and their plentiful supply of ashes 
and smell of turpentine. Then came 
the cinders and grime of the coal 
This oil fuel is a wonderful stride in 

the oil is always ready, no lighting of 
fires or waiting to get up steam, no 
coaling, no more the sound of the scoop 
of the fireman, no more smoke from the 
locomotive, and the lame back of the 
weary workers on the heavy grades will 
soon be read about with all the interest 

the economical generation of power, for of a war reminiscence. 


By Joe Mitchell Chappie 

NOW I have come to the last, the great 
climax of the trip, which had been 
approached by a gradual crescendo of 
wonderful sights, all of absorbing in- 

In the early morning we arrived at the 
Grand Canyon. The party clambered 
out of the cars to wander up to the rim 
of the great chasm just outside the 
famous hotel El Tovar. As I looked for 
the first time upon that marvelous scene, 
that Sunday morning at sunrise, it 
seemed as though all the world were in 
a spirit of worship before the great 
Divinity. Here the finite seemed to 
touch the Infinite. "And, far removed, 
God made himself an awful rose of 
dawn." It was not a time for words, 
for it was like looking into the great 
sepulchre of all the ages past. In this 
vast abyss all the inhabitants of the earth 
the sky-scraper and palace, factories 
and huts could be placed, and yet 
there would be room for ages to come. 
Niagara might have been at the bottom 
of the chasm and looked no more than 
a thread in the far distance. 

The great cones far away seemed like 
the mysterious, embattled dwellings of 
the old Norse gods, for here Thor and 
Odin might have found a dwelling place 
suited to their fierce majesty. These 
might have been the veritable Asgard, 
the home of the Aesir of Norse mythol- 
ogy, and in the darker recesses of the 
Great Canyon, where the stars peer down 
through the tremendous rifts at noonday, 
one might well fancy himself amid the 
tremendous and gloomy scenes of the 
Ragnarok, the last struggle of Good and 
Evil, "The Twilight of the Gods." 

At Bucky O'Neill's Point, near by, 
President Roosevelt stood with his som- 
brero and knotted kerchief when he said, 

"It is the duty of every American to see 
the Grand Canyon." 

Before such grandeur words fail, and 
I felt that it would be an immense relief 
if I could be permitted to leave this out 
of my story, and not seek to describe 
these awe-inspiring scenes. 

Across the vision came a battleship 
with red turrets, standing out below us 
in the billowy sea of space, and it was 
difficult to realize that this was merely 
the peculiar formation of the rocks 
and not a giant ship. Every minute the 
vista changes. It is difficult to realize 
that it is 6,000 feet, or more than a mile, 
to the bottom and here on the midway 
plateau we could see the tents pitched, 
looking like tiny white postage stamps 
in the distance. We rode to Rowe's 
Point, and there had another view, and 
on this beautiful Sabbath we needed no 
formal service to awaken in us the sprit 
of worship, for all about us were the 
tokens of the majesty and omnipotence 
of God. The soft rustle of the pines 
overhead made the air musical, and we 
felt that we were indeed in the temple of 
Deity. Such a scene creates a vague 
feeling of disappointment and distress; 
one wants either to laugh or to cry. The 
glory of infinitude oppresses the heart 
and awes the mind. I thought of the 
cowboy who was brought here to look 
upon this wonderful scene. He stood 
beside a minister who gave utterance to 
his feelings of worship for the Great 
Creator in suitable language and solemn 
Bishop tones, but the cowboy had no 
standards with which to gauge his 
thoughts; he said, in equally solemn 
and reverential tones, turning to his 
companion, with hat off and one foot 
on a stump, "Bill, doesn't this beat 


The cowboy and the minister meant 
exactly the same thing but the lan- 
guage varied. 

On a perilous point, not far from the 
hotel, the artist Moran, whose pictures 
adorn the national capitol at Washing- 
ton, sat for hours making sketches, 
silently worshipping at the shrine to 
which his life's devotion is paid. 
'Though he is now almost seventy-six 
years of age, and has made almost a life 
study of such scenes, he still insists that 
the human hand is unequal to the task 
of painting such grandeur and colors 
as are to be found in the Grand Can- 

Of course we had to visit the bottom 
of this wonderful abyss wanted to get 
to the bottom of things, you know. 
There was some hesitation but I felt 
that I could not make any excuse that 
would satisfy the readers of the National, 
so I ventured on the back of "Mid- 
night," a mule of skittish disposition. 
The first few moments of descent covers 
somewhat precipitous ground to put 
it mildly and as Midnight went round 
the ledges it seemed to me that she 
always sought the very outside rim of 
the precipice on which to walk. I held 
my breath and wore the shoulder of my 
coat off leaning against the wall to pre- 
serve my balance. About half way down 
I looked around me and saw a cheering 
sight for a traveler upon the mountain- 
side the body ot a dead mule. How- 
ever, there was no turning back, and I 
resigned myself to my fate and Mid- 
night. Down and down and down we 
went, over those winding paths until, 
after about three hours of descent, we 
came upon tents used by tourists who 
had spent the night in the canyon, 
o o o 

After a rest we drove over to the pla- 
teau, and there looked down hundreds 
of feet upon another canyon, a canyon 
within a canyon. 

As we made the descent, the canyons 
seemed to grow in proportion with every 
glance. Here were the shadows playing 
on the sides of the great red sandstone 
walls, and on the topmost rim was a 
streak of yellow with its turrets that 
might have suited a castle for the Colos- 
sus of Rhodes. 

Tiny springs on the plateau sent in 
their contribution to the little rivulets, 
but the great interior is dry as a bone. 
On the plateau we threw a rock off, 
and the suction drew it in quickly, 

showing that power of gravitation and 
suction which is now noticeable between 
the sky scrapers of New York. 

One cannot look upon this great won- 
der and not think of Powell, whose story 
of exploration is one of the most fas- 
cinating books of the government ar- 
chives. The thrilling adventures re- 
lated there are a priceless contribution to 
the scientific and geographical knowl- 
edge of the world. 

We had lunch on the plateau, and how 
trivial and insignificant we felt with our 
egg shells scattered on the great rocks, 
where the egg shells left by former visi- 
tors showed that we were not the first 
party to lunch on this romantic spot, 
where it seemed almost desecration even 
to eat. We could have sat there for 
hours and let our fancies play around the 
wonderful scenes about us. 

From the bottom of the canyon you can 
look up and see the stars at noonday as 
plain as though it were midnight. Well, 
I had to get on Midnight and return 
what comes down must go up, to 
reverse the natural law. I had already 
begun to walk bowlegged, due to my 
efforts to keep my precarious seat astride 
my steed. The return was the climax of 
the day. Before us was constantly pre- 
sented what seemed like impassable 
heights, and it set me to moralizing on 
the precipitous difficulties of life how 
impassable the steep places seem and 
yet when one approaches firmly and be- 
lievingly and looks close enough, there 
is always a way up for those who search 
long and earnestly. Up and up we 
climbed to those apparently impassable 
places, though it seemed to me that 
Midnight just zig-zagged aimlessly up a 
kind of "Jacob's Ladder." Yet we had 
occasion to dismount only in one place 
and then it was out of consideration for 
the poor, hard-breathing animals to 
whom the Grand Canyon is no pleasure 
trip, bearing their burdens day by day, 
carrying people fat and lean, tall and 
short, up and down these precipitous 

There were a few exciting moments 
when Midnight, meeting pedestrians, 
declined to pass them and insisted on 
turning around in a circle in less than 
two feet of space, and then dashing down 
the hill. Yes, I hung on, and finally the 
animal found a place to turn back again 
where there was a little more room for 
the maneuver than at first. 

Toward evening we approached the 











crest, and again it seemed as though 
some great silence was bidding us fare- 
well. I felt that we were at the vesper 
service of the submerged mountains, and 
the mysterious requiem of past ages was 
being chanted in inaudible sounds. All 
was silent not even the jangling of a 
bell. To realize that it was thirteen 
miles across that great chasm, from rim 
to rim, seemed impossible, and it was 
almost like reaching some far-off port 
when we were greeted with the cheery 
smiles of the party, and the proofs of 
photographs taken by the photographer 
before we started on our cruise having 
left the pictures behind in case we failed 
to return from the depths. 

What a contrast all this solitary gran- 
deur was to the cheery gaiety of the 
hotel! Mr. C. A. Brant, the manager 
of the hotel, has not only the reputation 
of being one of the best hotel men of the 
world, but has experience reaching from 
Montevideo, in South America, to Peoria, 
and the Union League, in Chicago and 
New York City. In addition to all this 
he is a man thoroughly in love with the 
Grand Canyon and all its beauties, and 
never can the hospitality of Mine Host 
Brant and his good wife be forgotten. 

The famous El Tovar hotel is named 
after a Spanish Captain, who is said to 
have been the first to visit the Canyon, 
centuries ago. Constructed of logs, with 
a Navajo hogan, or loggia, it is alto- 
gether picturesque and cheery. All 
through the chandeliers are made of 
rough-hewn wood, and the electric light 
globes in the form of bells suggest the 
chimes of an old mission. 

We were surprised to learn that, al- 
though there is water in that canyon 
on account of certain private mining 
claims it is impossible to have it 
brought where it is needed, to the hotel, 
and it now costs the proprietor eighty- 
seven dollars a day to bring water from 
a place 150 miles away, although close 
at hand there is the purest of spring 
water in abundance. 

It is difficult to understand the spirit 
which finds amusement in blowing up a 
mass of rock gathered on the rim of the 
Grand Canyon yet this was recently 
done, endangering life below. If there 
is any congressman or government offi- 
cial who does not realize the crying 
necessity of taking care of this matter at 
once, let him take a trip to the Grand 

Canyon, and he will come back and start 
on the proper legislation without delay. 

No one can visit this marvelous place 
without wondering why congress does 
not immediately and without fail provide 
funds for making this a great reserve 
and caring for it as they do for the Yel- 
lowstone Park. It is said that vandal- 
ism has already begun its work, and that 
every part of this great natural treasure 
house needs the protection of TJpcle 

Not far from the hotel is the village of 
the Hopi Indians, and here the tourist 
has an opportunity to see just how these 
people live. They are at work on the 
blankets for which they find ready sale, 
one blanket sometimes bringing quite a 
high price. Of course our 115 soon be- 
came the possessors of a large number of 
these curios. In these blankets the 
Swastika cross prevails as an ornament, 
an emblem that even antedates the 
sacred cross of Calvary. It is singular 
that an emblem formed originally from 
the "gamma" or the third letter of the 
Greek alphabet should be a common sign 
among these Indians, among whom it 
evidently has special significance. 

The Hopi Indians are known by some 
as the Snake Indians. Their villages are 
very curious, the homes being entered at 
the top by means of ladder. They believe 
in the under world and are content in the 
bottom of the canyons. The Hopis are 
convinced that all their troubles have 
come upon them since they came to live 
in the light. Their idea of heaven is 
the reverse of ours, as they hope to find 
their happy hunting grounds in the under 
world rather than in the sky. 

I made diligent inquiry about the vari- 
ous stories of the origin of the Grand 
Canyon, and one version was given me 
as coming direct from Sir John Murray 
of the Royal Geographical Society of 
England. He believes that at one time 
there was a great salt sea covering this 
land, of which the Salt Lake of Utah is 
a remnant. Then came the subsidence 
of the earth's surface, causing it to crack 
open along the Colorado canyons, when 
the waters contained here rushed down 
to join the sea. This is indicated by 
the sandstone formation in the can- 
yon, which shows where the top rim of 
the canyons was once an ocean bed. 
Then the rim of the canyons formed so 
much higher than the rest of the ground 
that it was not possible for any water to 
rush back into these places, with the ex- 


ception of the Colorado river, which is fed 
by the rainfall and the mountain springs. 
This tremendous crack in the earth's sur- 
face was doubtless occasioned by vol- 
canic heat, which may be seen on a very 
small scale in the baking of bread; when 
the crust cracks open, the steam rushes 
forth, and as the cooling process goes on 
the sides of the crack are found to re- 
main much higher than the rest of the 
loaf. On a gigantic scale, it is believed 
this same process took place in the 
Grand and other canyons. 

The night before leaving, I wandered 
out to see the sunset, and stood where I 
had viewed the sunrise on the canyon. 
Across the abyss were the vivid colors 
of the god of day. As I looked it seemed 
for a minute as though I could see the 
unfurled folds of the Stars and Stripes in 
alternating stripes of blue and red, but 
this thought passed as I saw the tokens 
of the great Power that holds the earth 
"in the hollow of His hand" and speaks 
to the weary world at the sunset hour 
the sweet word "Rest." 

At El Tovar, on the rim of the Grand 
Canyon, we had the desire to remain 
indefinitely, though we had been more 
than four weeks away from home. That 
last evening we had a meeting in the 
music room, at which Charles D. Clarke, 
of Peoria, was chairman, and a number 
of addresses were given by various mem- 
bers of the party, telling of what had ap- 
pealed most to them during the tour. 
It was a most delightful interchange of 
impressions and revealed how widely 
varied were the views of each member 
of the party. I think if there was any- 
thing not observed by that 115 when in 
Mexico, it was not visible to the naked 
eye or tourist field glass. 

Then there was a tribute to Larry, and 
his response; the solemn conclave con- 
cerning ''drawn work" and souvenirs. 
What a variety there was the man with 
a penchant for canes was carrying back 
all sorts and sizes, not omitting a "big 
stick" for President Roosevelt. In like 
manner each one had catered to his own 
particular tastes, and all remembered the 
dear ones at home. What memories of 
Mexico were recalled, from the stately 

cathedrals to the natives who find their 
happiness in eating a joint of sugar 

The good cheer of that meeting was 
a fitting close to the tour, for on the mor- 
row we were to part, as about half of the 
party were to leave for California. 

A snake dance had been witnessed 
before, and the party was sent off amid 
wild orgies which might have done jus- 
tice to the Hopi Indians themselves. 
There were staid business men dancing 
with whoops and war cries to the clang- 
ing of the locomotive bell, as the Cali- 
fornia party moved away amid shouts of 
good cheer, and a feeling of sadness 
that was almost akin to the breaking of 
home ties. 

On the trip the baggage car had been 
filled with trophies of every sort and size, 
which gradually diminished as the party 
dropped off one by one along the road. 
At Albuquerque we took up other mem- 
bers of the party who had been revelling 
in the curio establishments of the famous 
Fred Harvey while we were off exploring 
the Grand Canyon. 

We left some of the friends in Kansas 
and some in Missouri. That journey 
home seemed too swift, but promptly on 
time. The train often ran seventy and 
eighty miles an hour across the plains of 
Kansas. Aftei breakfasting for the last 
time together, came the time for fer- 
vent hand shakings. We all felt that 
each one had 1 14 more friends than when 
we started out. 

It was calculated that there were 17,455 
exposures taken with our amateur cam- 
eras, which did not include the pictures 
taken in the Grand Canyon, to say noth- 
ing of the posing of the mule "Midnight." 

Well, we parted at the gate where we 
had met five weeks before as strangers, 
feeling that now we were friends for all 
time. All hail to General Gates, the 
man who met us at that gate which swung 
open to admit lifelong friendships and 
memories of unforgetable days spent in 
Mexico and among the world-wonders of 
Arizona. Laden with trophies and blan- 
kets, we greeted the folks at home and 
now will always date everything from 
that month in Mexico. 


PUT it down in your notebook and see 
if I am not right among the places 
you will remember most distinctly when 
you visit Mexico are the shops of The 
Sonora News Company. There you will 
purchase curios and reminders which 
will grace your home and proclaim to 
everyone who looks upon them with ad- 
miring eye, that you have "been to 

Adjoining the old Hotel Iturbide are 
the justly celebrated art rooms of the 
Sonora News Company in Mexico City, 
and when I say it is a real treat to visit 
this museum of rare treasures, I only 
make a statement which a visit to Mexico 
will promptly verify. There is here a 
collection of beautiful and genuine an- 
tiquities, many of which were brought 
to the continent by the redoubtable Cas- 
tilians to grace their homes in the New 
World. I can never forget the morning 
I first visited this establishment. On 
every side were suggestions of ages 
past, of such unimpeachable merit that 
visitors quickly realize their exceptional 
value, their confidence further being 
assured by the accorded privilege of 
returning any purchase not in every way 

In this establishment is a collection 
which delights the connoisseur. It is 
amazing to learn that such treasures have 
been secured in comparatively so short 
a time, for often years and even cen- 
turies have been consumed in bringing 
together an assortment that so completely 
tells the history of the world in ages past. 

Approaching the stairway to the sec- 
ond floor, a fine collection of the arma- 
ments of earlier days is seen in formid- 
able array, and nothing more clearly 
shows the progress of Mexico, for where- 
as in years past all these pistols, swords 
and other instruments of warfare would 
have been in active use, they hang here 
as home ornaments, no longer necessary 
for the welfare of the inhabitants, who 
now have a stronger guarantee of peace 
and safety than the might of an indi- 
vidual right arm, or "a sword hand." 

Here may be seen the vase presented 
by Louis Phillippe of France to Santa 
Anna, the Mexican dictator in fact, 
every article has its own complete 
story and works of art of the superb 
collection of all kinds makes the 
store a means of obtaining a glimpse 
into the historic past of Mexico. 

The Sonora News Company possess 
one of Reubens' original famous trio of 
Bacchante pictures, the second being in 
the Dresden gallery and the third in the 
Hermitage, St. Petersburg. It will cer- 
tainly not be long before this rare and 
genuine painting finds a place in the 
art gallery of some collector who visits 

To my mind one of the most fascinat- 
ing objects in the store was an ancient, 
inlaid ivory desk brought from Spain 
centuries ago to find its place in the 
palacio of some wealthy Spaniard. The 
present price is $12,000 Mexican money. 
It is of rare and curious workmanship, 
and in the molding and inlay are but- 
tons, mysteriously concealed, which on 
being pressed reveal hidden drawers or 
tiny recesses, for in those old days there 
were few safe banks or vaults; desks 
were very carefully made and were cher- 
ished almost as sacredly as a shirne. 

The gold idol recently unearthed in 
the state of Guerrero is here shown. 
Upon it are exquisitely wrought designs 
which speak of the skilled workmanship 
of an almost forgotten race, for this was 
made in the pre- Aztec period. On it 
the floor of a temple is represented. 
The idol itself was made to commemo- 
rate the achievements of the "king of 
the wounded foot." To the eye of the 
expert the story is told as plainly as on 
the printed page, and it has a strange 
interest for the wayfaring tourist. This 
idol is one of the rarest relics ever 
discovered of the lost Toltec tribes. It 
dates from the thirteenth century, yet 
the workmanship could not be excelled 

The antique carved wood furniture in- 
dicates the skill and art of the craftsmen 
of early days following the Spanish con- 
quest. The equable climate of Mexico 
has kept all these wooden articles in an 
admirable state of preservation, and it 
is wonderful how the objects collected 
here have withstood the ravages of time. 

A heavily gilded candlestick was there 
that had been recently purchased from 
one of the churches. It is richly carved, 
and I was told that these are usually 
found in pairs and are decorated, as this 
one was, in exquisite taste. There was 
also a fine assortment of mantillas, Span- 
ish lace, tapestries and zarapes, and it 
was wonderful how so varied a collection 
could be arranged to harmonize as it did. 

AT least once every Winter it is enter- 
taining and inspiring forme to attend 
some notable dinner held in Washing- 
ton. One of the most memorable ban- 
quets of the season at the capital was 
tnat given by Uncle Joe Cannon, speaker 
of the house, in honor of the Gridiron 

It was one of the most comprehensive 
gatherings ever held at a banquet board 
there were the president, vice-presi- 
dent, members of the cabinet, members 
of the supreme court, prominent mem- 
bers of the various diplomatic corps, 
His Eminence Cardinal Gibbons, Bishop 
Fowler and other prominent divines. 

There were congressmen without stint; 
there were railway presidents; in fact 
almost every phase of American life was 
represented including the publishers. 
The hum of the reception at eight 
o'clock indicated how naturally all the 
different representatives affiliated. 

The gathering was a supreme test of 
the social qualities, for there was no dis- 
tinction as to any position held by an 
individual, but each guest stood purely 
on his own personal qualities. 

There was President Roosevelt in one 
corner, quite equal to the sociabilities 
of the occasion ; there was the stately 
form of Vice President Fairbanks, look- 
ing down and beaming upon Editor 
Sleicher of Leslie's Weekly. Digni- 
fied senators walked about, bestowing 
a handshake here and there that had 
all the fervor of a church social. 

Here I met the venerable Honorable 
Levi P. Morton, ex-vice president of the 
United States, as bright and entertaining 
as when he presided over the senate in 
the days of the Harrison administration. 
There was Justice Harlan telling his 
favorite story, with Senators Allison and 
Kean as attentive listeners. Here was 

Robert G. Cousins, one of the most elo- 
quent congressmen. Close by him was 
Judge Walter I. Smith, philosopher and 
sage, of Iowa. Then there was the 
towering form of Charles Littlefield of 
Maine, who was trying to convince John 
Sharp Williams that he was really a 
Yankee after all. College presidents 
and professors were there, talking in 
rich, measured phrase and using gram- 
mar that is parsable according to dia- 

The Gridiron Club was formed about 
twenty-five years ago, and was composed 
of about forty correspondents of the vari- 
ous newspapers throughout the country. 
Their first dinners were very modest 
affairs at Walker's; then they began to 
invite a few friends, until in later years 
these festive occasions have become 
without doubt the most notable dinners 
given in the country, for, as the boys 
say, "they have the real material to work 
upon" for keen wit and satire. The 
guests are pointed out at the table and 
named, and there is no escape from the 
shafts that are flying. 

For twenty-five years Uncle Joe has 
been a victim of the Gridiron Club, and 
in those conflicts honorable scars were 
won in the exchange of timely compli- 

The "three bells" declaring a "call of 
the house," sounded at eight, and the 
massive curtains were drawn aside; 
Speaker Cannon escorted President 
Roosevelt, while Mr. Fearn, president 
of the club, escorted Vice President 
Fairbanks. The tables were in the form 
of a gridiron, in honor of the club, and 
Uncle Joe, as the host, held aloft the 
gavel in his left hand. The banquet 
room looked like a miniature botanical 







The Best Extract of the Best Beef 


Ask your druggist or grocer for one. 

The Spoon offer expires August 1st, 1906. 

Each buyer of Armour's Extract of Beef may secure one of our 
Spoons free by asking their dealer for one. If he cannot supply it, 
send us the metal cap on the jar and one will be sent postpaid to any 
address in the U. S. 


This Spoon is intended for the pantry or medicine closet. It may 
be hung on a nail in a convenient place, and is always handy. It 
accurately measures fluids, solids, and powders, and insures against 
using too large quantities. 


Don't fail to mention "The National Magazine" when writing to advertisers. 


garden; on the stage at one end the 
capitol building was reproduced, illum- 
inated with electric lights representing 
a night scene. This was the work of 
Elliott Woods. One could almost imag- 
ine a night sitting actively at work dur- 
ing the closing days of the session. In 
the balcony the Marine Band played, 
and everywhere were masses of smilax 
and Spring flowers. 

# * # 

Each guest found an imitation of a 
house admission card at his plate, admit- 

But they know that you are there. 
Mister Speaker, Mister Speaker, 
Oh, please to catch my eye, 
Please let me have the floor just once, 
Mister Speaker, ere I die. " 

This was specially written for the 
occasion by Mr. Hay, with music by 
Mr. Xander. The soloist carried out the 
characteristic gestures of the Speaker, 
with the inevitable cigar between the 
first and second fingers. 

The dinners of the Gridiron Club are 
conducted on the theory that "ladies 


ting the bearer to the Speaker's gallery 
of the Gridiron; each card bore the 
Speaker's autograph. 

The menu cards contained clever 
sketches and photographs. The dinner 
was hardly under way before the fun 
commenced with the rousing chorus by 
the jolly singers of the club 

"Mister Speaker, Mister Speaker, 
You're a la la in the chair. 
Not quite the Czarina, 

are always present," though reporters 
are excluded. Of course no one is 
attacked or satirized unless he is there 
to defend himself, so the witty sallies 
and darts are all hurled at "present 

In the early evening hours the diners 
were astonished by a group of charac- 
ters "just arrived from Danville." They 
were members of the Gridiron Club rep- 


(See "Adventures of a Special Correspondent", page 292) 


Snapshot Photograph by C. F. Smieor, Muskegon, Michigan 



JUNE, 1906 


Attains at WaAingion 

LSI/ Joe JViitcnell Cnapple 

f^YXT'HAT is so rare as a day in 
VV June?" -you've heard the 
rhyme. The atmosphere is balmy and the 
buds are bursting everywhere. Many of 
the trees have already come into full leaf- 
age in the beautiful parks, and here and 
there a statue gleams through the leaves. 

All the seats are occupied, the people 
seem to be enjoying themselves and no 
one apparently has anything else to do 
excepting the capitol guides. Baby- 
carriages, of course, and policemen not 
far away. The Washington police are 
very active in their care of baby- 


Photograph copyright 1906 by the National Press Association 



carriages, especially if the child is in 
charge of a good-looking nurse. 

Every seat in the "Seeing America" 
automobiles is taken. Each month in 
Washington seems to have its especial 
character, and the month of June has a 
mood all its own. Picture Wash- 
ington in June! Picture everywhere 
bright and happy faces the bride and 
groom: the middle-aged father and moth- 
er, who have left their family at home 
or the old couple whose birds have all 
left the family nest they come to enjoy 
a second honeymoon this beautiful June 
weather: the school-boys, with wide open 
eyes and attentive ears, all eager to "see 
the sights," for it is here that lessons 
of American history may be learned, 
never to be forgotten ; and here is a group 
of merry teachers, out for a holiday. 

At the White House we saw a group 
of bright-eyed seminary girls, who had 
come with their teacher to "see the presi- 
dent." They were compelled to wait 
some time in the anteroom; this was the 
hour when the secret service men held 
their reception. A secret service man 
is no such fierce and terrible person as 
one might suppose, with drooping black 
moustache, shark eyes and eagle glance- 
he is just as likely to be a stylish young 
man who looks as if he might serve 
on a reception committee at a pink tea. 

On this day it rained, and instead of 
the last contingent of hand-shakers pass- 
ing out from the open door, they circled 
around through the anterooms and back 
again to the entrance, and it was refresh- 
ing to hear the young ladies' admiring 
comments on the president. 

It was a veteran journalist with a red 
necktie who sat beside me that day and 
called my attention to this conclusion: 

"If you really want to know why it is 
that America possesses the prominence 
it enjoys today, just observe the vision 
passing now." 

He alluded to a group of young girls, 
as they went by, heads erect, eyes ob- 
servant, nothing escaping their notice 

not meek and lowly not clinging vines 
but conscious of the power and in- 
spiration they impart to their brothers, 
fathers and sweethearts. As it was a 
rainy day outside, we unconsciously got 
our eyes fixed on the stack of umbrellas 
that those girls had piled up outside, 
not exactly in military precision. If any 
man had placed his umbrella among so 
many others, he never would have dared 
remove his gaze from it a moment, for 
fear of forgetting what it looked like and 
failing to recognize it when the time 
came to take it again. But the young 
ladies sat on the edges of their chairs, 
leaning over to talk to each other or to 
their .chaperon with the purple hat, and 
this was the time when the newspaper 
boys fixed their ties and talked to each 
other in tones that meant the conversa- 
tion was not all about copy or news. 
When it was 'all over and the girls passed 
through this room on their way out, it 
was fascinating indeed to watch the deft 
way in which each one promptly and 
without hesitation picked out her own 

This was a serious lesson to me, for 
I had that morning started for the 
White House with an umbrella possess- 
ing holes in the roof and two broken 
ribs. On visiting the press-room, I 
carefully placed it in the waste-basket, 
the umbrella receiver, and when I came 
away I took the only umbrella visible. 
Upon reaching my destination I found 
that for the first time in my life I had 
secured a really sound umbrella instead 
of the disabled awning I had started 
with. Then the discovery, the endeavor 
to stifle the admonitions of conscience to 
walk back and place that umbrella where 
I found it to await the return of its owner 
the telephone rang. It was a secret 
service man, who asked if I was sure I 
had taken the right umbrella. I knew it 
was no use then, so I made a merit of 
necessity and marched back and placed 
the good umbrella once more in the waste 



EVEN the old-time newspaper men 
and residents of the national capi- 
tal, who are wont to awake to enthusiasm 
in relating the reminiscences of stirring 
days gone by, concede there never has 
been a time in the history of the United 
States senate when more ability in de- 
bate has been displayed on the floor than 
during the past session. If every reader 
of the National Magazine could have 
heard these debates, there would be lit- 


tie significance for them in the unjust 
attacks made upon the senate. Any man 
who knows what he is talking about, or 
understands the sort of men who consti- 
tute the senate, could never doubt the 
loyalty, and could never even harbor a 
suspicion of treason among the members 
of that body. There is a higher average 
of strength, mental, moral and physical, 
in the senate today than ever before. 
The variety of talent here has been con- 
spicuous for some years past, and the in- 
dividual strength of the members today 
is evidenced in the fact that they have 
risen above party lines. This conclusion 
was fixed firmly and conclusively in my 
mind by every newspaper man I met who 
had a personal knowledge of the senators. 

Those who have not come into close 
contact with this body may not fully 
realize the splendid ability, earnest 
conviction and unimpeachable integ- 
rity of the United States senate as it 
stands today. There may be black 
sheep, as there are in most institutions, 
but the promiscuous assaults made on the 
senate are as unreasonable as they are 
illogical and untrue. It is little under- 
stood that many of these men are serving 
in congress at personal sacrifice so far 
as money is concerned. I consider it 
a special honor and. privilege to have 
made the personal acquaintance of 
these men who have distinguished 
themselves in the service of the nation. 


THE average person little realizes the 
vital importance of the work trans- 
acted in the committee rooms at the 
national capitol. With frequent meet- 
ings during the session of the senate, the 


committee on interoceanic canals has 
accumulated a mass of information which 
it would be impossible for any large de- 
liberative body to assimilate. Day by 
day that committee has sat there, analyz- 
ing and probing, getting at the facts and 
figures which will save this country mil- 
lions of dollars, as well as make the com- 
pletion of the canal possible. 


The other day I had the pleasure of 
seeing Senator Dryden of New Jersey, 
who has served so faithfully on this com- 
mittee; he was selected at the sug- 
gestion of Senator Hanna who was the 
soul of this committee at its inception. 

Senator Dryden is also chairman of 
another committee on which Senator 
Hanna did important work, that of en- 
rolled bills, and it is doubtful whether 
the simple, democratic, straightforward 
way in which Senator Dryden has served 
his nation is fully understood. Indeed, 
the insignia of the great insurance com- 

pany which he has made one of the chief 
business institutions of the world is well 
chosen, for if there ever was a Gibraltar 
of strength and power to those who know 
him, it is the senator from New Jersey. 
I found him one evening at his home 
in Washington, with a mass of docu- 
ments before him, studying them as 
intently as a judge going over his 
case. There were amendments and 
bills on every side; the evening spent 
with him was indeed an inspiration. 
After this talk with him I could 
understand why it was that men 
like Senator Dryden have achieved re- 


suits in every undertaking. New Jersey 
has reason to be proud of his work. 

IF anyone will read the debates in the 
senate on the railroad rate question, I 
think all will agree that the speeches of 
Senator Spooner, La Follette and Dolli- 



ver, Tillman; Bailey, Kean and Foraker, 
reveal strong minds and earnest convic- 
tions. Senator John Kean of New Jersey, 
in a few concise remarks one afternoon, 
called attention to the fact that the senate 
was assembled under the Constitution of 
the United States, and that anything done 
or said outside of that was without effect, 
because the senate was the creature 
of the constitution. He laid par- 
ticular stress upon the legislative 
powers possessed by the congress 
of the United States, contending that 
these powers cannot be delegated to a 
commission or to the courts. Senator 
Kean is a man who does not appear fre- 
quently in the Congressional Record, 
but has long been recognized as one of 
those forceful members who have had 
much to do with legislative measures 
which really legislate. He maintains 
that equilibrium to which every citizen 
of the United States aspires, and strives 
for perfection in all that he undertakes, 
whether it be much or little. 

I was in the senate chamber the after- 
noon that Senator Foraker made his 
speech on the railway rate bill, with an al- 
ternate scowl and smile, emphasizing his 
ability as a lawyer as well as law-maker. 
Senators Tillman, Bailey and Bacon and 
all the opposition were here with interro- 
gations and confusing questions on the 
proposition, bringing out all manner of 
fine legal points. It was most interest- 
ing and instructive to watch the play of 
the human mind flashing here and there 
and how the most delicate suggestion, 
even the lifting of an eyebrow,sometimes 
changes the whole tenor of a discussion. 
The test at one time hinged on the words 
"just compensation." Senator Bailey 
said he used this phrase because it was 
a common term in condemning land for 
a right-of-way. 

Senator Foraker related how the peach 
orchards of South Carolina and Georgia 
had been made possible because of ad- 
justment of rates. While the Delaware 
rate into New York must not be too 

high, yet never was there much com- 
plaint from the growers of the South that 
their rate was too low. All this, he con- 
tended, had resulted in the generally 
diffused development of the country, 
bringing out at long range all the possi- 
ble resources of the nation. 

Senator Tillman was ever ready with 
rich, interesting and forceful comment 
to push forward the rate bill of which 
he had charge. 

It is fitting that the Allison amendment 


should be the one which has finally 
united the different factions in the pros- 
pective passage of the rate bill. 

THE young member from Iowa, Rep- 
presentative Dawson, made a hit the 
other day in his great defence of and 
tribute to the American hen, when he 
proved conclusively from statistics that 
the poultry products of the nation were 
greater in value than any crop of cot- 
ton, and larger than the gold coinage 
of Great Britain. He showed that 



the American hen produces wealth equal 
to all the capital stock of the banks of the 
New York Clearing House, and that the 
hens can do this in three months and 
have a week to spare. In sixty days the 
product of these wonderful birds equals 
the annual production of all the gold 
mines in the United States, and they 
create more wealth in six months than all 
the pig iron mined in this country for 
twice that period. The height of 
eloquence was reached by the speaker 
when he announced that if the Ameri- 
can hen were given one year and ten 
months, she would pay off all the inter- 
est-bearing debt of the United States. 
This statement was received amid bursts 
of applause, and the doughty American 
eagle will have to look well to his laurels 
as the national emblematic bird. 

A VERY small proportion of the work 
of a representative in congress is 
known to his constituents. Much of the 
time and energy of legislators is devoted 
to national measures, over which they 
toil in their committee rooms in the in- 
terest of projects that concern the na- 
tion at large, and for which the hardest 
worker receives scant credit in the gen- 
eral summing up of congressional 
achievement among his constituents. 

There is Congressman Minor, with his 
shipping bill, who has visited nearly 
every lake port and seaport in the 
United States to get facts at first hand 
and collect information which as an old, 
experienced sea dog he knows to be abso- 
lutely reliable, for he is well fitted to 
judge of such matters. 

There is another busy man in one of the 
wide window alcoves in the room of the 
committee on naval affairs. Here, at an 
alcove desk littered with correspondence, 
Representative Vreeland was hammering 
away to clear up the regular routine of 
accumulated business which piles up dur- 
ing the hours of working time in a 
committee-room and on the floor. There 

has never been a time in which the de- 
mand for work on strictly national meas- 
ures has been so exacting. 

Anew arrangement has been provided 
at the capitol by the doorkeeper, F. P. 
Lyons, to prevent the unwary congess- 
man from being annoyed by the solici- 
tations of book agents and peddlers 
a change effected by the appeal of cer- 
tain members. 'Now it requires correct 
answers to a somewhat rigid catechism 
to get at a congressman during working 

Another new departure is the quarters 
in Statuary Hall, reserved exclusively 
for ladies, which proved a great con- 
venience during the recent session. 
Among the heroic and classic figures 
representing the various states, the con- 
gressmen are now consulted by the 
ladies, doing away with blocking the 
corridors and filling up the d^ep window 


AN interesting incident is told of the 
grace and chivalry of the delegate 
from Hawaii, Jonah K. Kalanianaole. 
Can you conceive of a more curious com- 
bination of vowels and consonants than 
appears in this name? However it may 
read, the delegate from Hawaii now hears 
his full name properly pronounced by his 
fellow members as clearly as the three 
Smiths in congress. During the early 
days of the session he drew a seat and 
it chanced to be that formerly held by 
Congressman Dalzell, who was one of 
the last to have a choice, and who was, 
therefore, obliged to "go away back and 
sit down." The delegate from Hawaii 
offered his seat to the gentleman 
from Pennsylvania, a courtesy graciously 
appreciated by the republican leader. 
Mr. Kalanianaole made a speech in con- 
gress in which he said that the more he 
saw of Washington, the more he believes 
that his native land registered the great- 
est day of its history when it became a 
part of the United States. 




COMING down Pennsylvania avenue 
on a street car, I met the gallant 
Admiral Schley and saluted him. 

The doughty hero of Santiago was at- 
tired in civilian clothes and had just 
returned from Harrisburg, where he had 

made a notable after-dinner speech on 
the evolution of the navy a rather 
ponderous subject, but the admiral is 
a happy speaker on such occasions, say- 
ing much in few words. 

The sight of the admiral called to 



mind our meeting a few months ago at 
the banquet in Peoria, where Thomas W. 
Lawson was the chief attraction, but 
when he was called upon at ten minutes 
past twelve to deliver his 9,000 carefully 
prepared words, he refused. This ban- 
quet was a superb "affair given by the 
noted Creve Coeur Club, which has taken 
its name from the expression of La Salle, 
the voyageur, who settled at Peoria, liv- 
ing in a hut which he called "the bleed- 
ing heart," or "Creve Coeur," in the 
lonely hours of penning his chronicle. 
The banquet was on Washington's 

-<W . 


birthday and the scene was one never to 
be forgotten, for the decorations con- 
sisted of a handsome reproduction of 
Mount Vernon on the spacious stage. 
There were Congressman J.Adam Bede, 
President A. B. Stickney of the Chicago 
Great Western railway, Congressman C. 
A. Towne, and a galaxy of other notable 
speakers, but among them all Admiral 
Schley maintained his purpose, and, 
though respecting the admonition to 
consume no more than his allotted twelve 
or fifteen minutes, he gave the people 


an inimitable and never-to-be-forgotten 
talk a glimpse of a real naval officer 
in pratorical action. 

As we reached our destination on the 
street car and alighted, the admiral re- 





sponded to the salute in the same grace- 
ful way in which he is pictured on the 
bridge at Santiago with the same ges- 
tures that make his after-dinner talks so 

THERE is a modest little legation on 
Hillyer Place, not exactly a Swiss 
chalet, but a very pleasant quarter, and it 
is here that Mr. Leo Vogel, the Swiss 
minister, watches over the welfare of his 
government in American affairs. 

Mr. Vogel has been in Washington as 
minister only since last November, but 
was previously in the diplomatic service, 
and has a wide experience of American 
affairs. He paid a splendid tribute to 
the present president of the Swiss repub- 
lic, Mr. Forrer. The members of the 
Swiss federal assembly, who are elected by 



direct vote of the people, choose seven 
counsellors or cabinet members, and these 
seven men elect one of their number to act 
as their chairman and president of the 
republic. Each of the seven counsellors 
has charge of one of the federal depart- 
ments, as do the members of the cabi- 
net of an American president. The 
difference is that here the president 
chooses the cabinet, while in Switzer- 
land the cabinet chooses the president. 
It is a curious fact that although there 
are three languages spoken in Switzer- 




land French. German and Italian wy 
little difficulty is found in transacting 
business, because the cantons or states 
attend to their own legislation rather 
than centralize it in the federal govern- 

The trade of Switzerland with the 
United States is growing very rapidly. 
A large number of fine cattle have been 
exported to this country during the past 
year, and Swiss cheese and butter and 
condensed milk are finding a steady sale 
in our markets. In talking about Swiss 
manufactures, I was interested to learn 
that Peters' chocolate is as popular there 
as it is here. The little cakes sold on 
the trains have helped to pass away tedi- 
ous hours for many a traveler, and Mr. 
Vogel quite agreed with me that it was 
a very valuable manufacture, its nourish- 
ing properties .making it far more than 
a mere sweetmeat. 

The chief source of income in Switzer- 
land, the playground of the whole world, 
is the hotel business. There are many 

Americans who can recall visits to the 
quaint, picturesque chalets of the Alps, 
and there are few homes in this country 
into which a Swiss clock of some kind 
has not been brought. 

AMONG the democratic members of 
congress who have returned this 
year with laurels fresh upon their brows 


is Representative Henry C. Garber, who 
is chairman of the Democratic State Ex- 
ecutive Committee of Ohio, and whose 
well-planned campaign resulted in the 
election of a democratic governor. Mr. 
Garber is still a young man and 
seems especially qualified for political 
management. He began life as a tele- 
graph operator, but soon won his way to 
the top and through his familiar- 
ity with that work he seems to have 
caught the flash of rapid communication 
between human kind, and has become 
somewhat a political prophet. At the 
age of twenty-eight he entered the Ohio 



legislature and became chairman of the 
democratic state committee. 

There is always a promise of lively 
reading in the Congressional Record 
when Representative William Sulzer of 
New York begins to get busy. A 
ready debater and never lacking for a 
response, he made a most eloquent plea 
for the old frigate Constitution, para- 
phrasing the immortal phrase, "We won't 
give up the ship." His speech was of 
thrilling interest, and his recitation of 
the famous poem, "Old Ironsides," by 
Oliver W. Holmes, was an incident 
that will long be remembered by the 


members of the house; it brought back 
visions of happy days on the school ros- 
trum "at home." 

Mr. Sulzer's terrific arraignment of the 
Russians and his plea for the Jews of that 
country was another incident indicating 
the versatility of the man. Although 
some men may regard him as erratic at 

times, no member from New York state 
is more warmly appreciated by his con- 
stituents for what he has achieved 
in congress. 

A quiet, black-eyed man is Anthony 
Michalek, the first native of Bohemia, or 
of Slavonic blood, ever elected to the 
American congress. It will be remem- 
bered that the Slavic family includes 
Russians, Bohemians, Poles, Croatians, 
Lithuanians, Moravians and other groups. 
It was entertaining to chat with this 
young man who has made his way, with 
only a grammar school education, to the 
position he now holds, and it is certainly 
an inspiration to realize the possibilities 
that our country affords to all adopted 

Mr. Michalek was born in Prague, 
Bohemia, in January, 1878, and was 
brought by his parents to this country 
at the age of three months. At the 
present time he is the youngest member 
of the house. 




A. S. Bennett of New York, thirty-six 
years of age, is another fine type of 
young congressman. He was once a 
newspaper man and served as justice of 
the municipal court, and although he 
represents a close district, he enjoys the 
full confidence and esteem of his constit- 
uents. There are more young men in 
congress this year than ever before. 

With a majority of one hundred and 
twelve members, the republicans realize 
that fifty-seven districts will have to be 
transferred before 
they lose control; 
but the congres- 
sional committee, 
under the leader- 
ship of Mr. Sher- 
man, is alert, and 
fence-building has 
already been be- 

John Emery An- 
drus of Yonkers, 
New York, is a 
congressman who 
keeps in close 
touch with current 
affairs, and is a 
trustee of the Wes- 
leyan university. 
He never neglects 
an opportunity of 
forwarding the in- 
terests of educa- 
tion. The fact is, 
every congressman 

has his special work in hand, looking 
to the general welfare, for which he some- 
times fails to receive full credit at home. 

The name of William McKinley 
remains on the roll-call of the House of 
Representatives. It is now William B. 
McKinley, of Illinois, a wealthy farmer 
and banker residing at Petersburg. He 
has already established his reputation as 
one .of the quiet, unassuming but influ- 
ential members. He pays close atten- 

tion to debates and the work of his com- 
mittee and has justified the confidence 
which has been placed in him by the 
11,000 majority that sent him to con- 
gress. Mr. McKinley has lately been 
chosen treasurer of the republican con- 
gressional campaign committee. 

The tribute of a young boy, on hearing 
the name, was sweet to hear: "William 
McKinley was the kindest man who ever 
was president." 



'HE distinction 
between a con- 
ference and a cau- 
cus in the house of 
representatives is 
not often clearly 
understood. In a 
conference held by 
the members of a 
political party, the 
members are not 
bound by the re- 
sult of the meet- 
ing, but in caucus 
the decisions are 
always presumed 
to be binding. 
Mr. Hepburn is 
chairman of the 
republican house 
conference and H. 
D. Loudenslager is 
secretary, and the 
conferences during 
the present session 
have been more 

largely attended than the caucuses. Out of 
the one hundred and twelve republican 
majority, forty-two or forty-three members 
are known as "insurgents," whose pro- 
tests are supposed to be aimed at the 
rules of the house, which place so much 
power in the hands of the speaker. 
On the direct vote on bills of vital 
importance the insurgents had thirty- 
five votes. In the conferences, which 
are not public, some of the most vig- 
orous and graphic speeches are made. 



AT the national meeting of the lumber- 
men in Washington, one of the ser- 
vices to be rendered by the department 
of agriculture was exploited in the sug- 
gestion of a plan for protection against 
forest fires. The immense losses sus- 
tained by these fires can scarcely be 
computed, and especially is protection 
necessary when experiments are being 
made to re-forest the land and protect 
the new growth. 

In the West an elaborate service has 
been put into use 
by a private owner, 
acting on the ad- 
vice of the forestry 
bureau under Com- 
missioner Pinchot. 
Fire lines of two or 
three hundred feet 
in width are used 
as a basis from 
which to check the 
ravages of possible 
fires. During last 
year this organiza- 
tion was so success- 
ful that the same 
plan is now being 
considered with a 
view to expanding 
and perfecting pa- 
trol service over 
400,000 acres. It 
was interesting to 
find a typical old 
lumberman who 
used to dwell in the 

wilds of Maine or Wisconsin discussing 
with keen, practical knowledge the 
scientific suggestions for preserving the 
nation' forests and for cultivating the 
second growth where the primeval forest 
has been destroyed. 

DURING the month the cornerstone 
of the handsome congressional office 
building was laid by the Masonic body 
of which the president is a member. 


The new building will provide amply for 
committee-rooms. In the meantime it 
requires an experienced guide to pilot 
the visitor into the winding labyrinths 
on a voyage of discovery to find some 
isolated office. Far down beneath the 
stately steps of the capitol, I found Rep- 
resentative C. E. Littlefield. Over the 
door of his room was a sign, "Expen- 
ditures of the Agriculture Department." 
"This is where I shall get the nub of 
the free seed proposition," I said to my- 
self as I turned the 

Seated at a desk 
in a coiner of the 
room was the stately 
and stalwart repre- 
sentative, with a 
mass of letters 
about him, turning 
off dictation at the 
rate of about two 
hundred and 
twenty - five words 
per minute. He 
was dictating to two 
stenographers, one 
at his right and one 
at his left, and I 
really think it would 
be possible for 
him to keep four 
employed instesd 
of two. I did not 
interrupt the rapid 
fire of words, but 
knew when the work 

was completed by the way in which 
the dictator's fist came down on the table 
as he said: 

"There! Now for lunch." 
We managed to find our way back to 
the house restaurant, and while munch- 
ing a turkey sandwich it was a treat to 
hear the vigor with which the Maine 
man expressed his views. There is 
never any uncertainty or equivocation 
in a proposition laid down by Charles 
E. Littlefield, and the Pine Tree 



state can certainly be proud of him. 

Mr. Littlefield's recent speech on the 
railroad question was one of the most 
significant in the discussion of the bill in 
the house, and his startling comparison 
of the interest in the rate legislation, as 
compared to the mining, manufacturing 
and mercantile industries, showed that 
the railroads are of minor importance. 
Our industries furnish the vital life blood 
of the country, whereas the railroads are 
simply the veins 
and the arteries 
through which it 
circulates. He 

"I^do not pro- 
pose to put into 
the hands of seven 
men, however il- 
lustrious, so much 
power. There are 
too many millions 
involved, and the 
welfare of too 
many people is at 

The speaker 
threw upon the 
screen an unusual 
and rarely consid- 
ered phase of the 
issues, when he 
said he must refuse 
to imperil the great 
industries of New 
England by voting 
to place them at 

the mercy of the edict of a federal com- 
mission. There are conditions that must 
of necessity be considered before a radi- 
cal and sweeping demand is made to 
change the industrial map of the country. 

At a table near by was a jolly crowd 
"Jim" Sherman, "Joe" Sibley, "Jim" 
Watson of Indiana, and others. Joe 
and Jim seem to be popular names in 
public life. The temptation could not 
be resisted to have a bit of playful sport 
at the expense of Mr. Vreeland's shining 




head, which was speedily converted into 
a target for cracker-throwing, and the 
fight continued until the stern-faced 
Jehoshaphat, the colored waiter, arrived 
on the scene. 

It being St. Patrick's day the group 
at that table had all ordered "Irish 
stew." At the lunch tables there was, 
or course, the irrepressible "Cubey" full- 
cream cheese, which has long since 
won a secure place in the affections 
of the lunchers at 
the capitol. 

In another cor- 
n e r was Repre- 
sentative Charles 
Landisof Indiana. 
There is genuine 
regret among all 
the congressmen of 
political shades of 
every color at the 
retirement of Sib- 
Icy of Pennsylvan- 
ia. He insists up- 
on it, and when he 
insists on retire- 
ment it means 
quite as much as 
when he insists on 
election. His gen- 
ial disposition, the 
vigorous work he 
has done and fine 
speeches he has 
made have been 
appreciated and he 
leaves behind him 

a splendid record in the lower house. 

DURING one of the early Spring 
storms, I decided that I ought to 
visit the government printing office, 
the finest in the world, and starting out, 
I trudged through snow across excava- 
tions for the railroad station, which are 
creating several new hills in Washington 
that will bring up the total to match the 
seven hills of Rome. 

Passing through the handsome marble 



entrance, I found my way to the office of 
the public printer, Charles A. Still 
ings, whose quiet, executive air 
suggests that he is getting right to 
the bottom of the work in that office and 
placing it on the same basis on which a 
private enterprise would be managed. 
He was evidently keeping close watch 
on the "cost of production" account 
just as any printer in private business 
would do. On 
one floor was a 
long array of 
Monotype set- 
ting machines, 
clattering away 
like Galling 
guns; in anoth- 
er corner were 
their rivals, the 
keeping up a 
buzz which re- 
minded me of 
the composing- 
room of a great 
daily newspa- 
per. The Con- 
gressional Rec- 
ord, whose cir- 
culation figures 
are never given 
out, and whose 
pages have nev- 
er been boost- 
ed for "pulling 

may be exhausted in the regular supply 
the outfit is as complete as Uncle Sam's 
currency can make it. 

On tables are a large array of senate 
and H. R. bills in type, pasted to card- 
board "shoes" tied up ready for "further 
consideration." A number of these 
were awaiting the insertion of amend- 
ments, changes and "strike-outs," always 
in vogue at the capitol, especially during 
the baseball 
season. There 
is no terror of 
"rings" or "al- 
terations " in 
the government 
printing office 
bill department 

I was much 
interested in 
the new bind- 
ery, and found 
there an index- 
ing and cutting 
machine which 
cuts down the 
side of the book 
and arranges 
the letters for 
indexing. With 
a simple con- 
trivance, which 
i s worked b y 
hand, the let- 
ters or numbers 
are placed upon 


produced with 

the regularity of the congressional 
clock. Everywhere was the all-pervading 
evidence .of system, and of perfect 
equipment of the latest kind. Every 
printer would promptly and keenly 
appreciate the conveniences which the 
new printing office offers. There were 
slug cases and cabinets, labor-saving de- 
vices such as the country printer dreams 
of but never hopes to possess. No 
placing of jobs on boards and "pulling 
for sorts" for the different letters which 

the index by 
rolling it down, 

as a printer's roll is operated. As I 
looked upon the elderly gentleman, 
Mr. Osborne, who invented this ma- 
chine, I thought, "There is another 
evidence of the general business pro- 
gress of the time in systematizing all 
accumulated data, so that no time is lost 
in finding or selecting what is needed 
at any moment in the multifarious reports 
and data that serve as official informa- 

In this great printing office is the 



throbbing intelligence of the nation, al- 
though it must be confessed that many 
books have been printed here that have 
found their way into the musty store- 
rooms of the capitol and other public 
buildings. Yet there will come a time 
when all these details will be of greater 
value than can now be estimated. It seems 
to me that a large part of the product of 
this great printery should be distributed 
over the country, so that the nation might 
have access to these records. It is the 
work done by the government printing 
office that enables 
congress to keep in 
close touch with 
the precedents of 
the past, and it is 
frequently the case 
that some member 
of congress will 
spend days and 
weeks in looking 
up and tracing 
through printed 
records important 
points which have 
great weight in the 
disposition of af- 
fairs, not only in 
legislative but in ju- 
dicial proceedings. 
To my mind there 
is no more import- 
ant department of 
the government 
than the printing 

office, although it has been the butt of 
ridicule because of the excessive cost 
of production, compared with that at 
at which printing can be done in a priv- 
ate institution. This office is the pre- 
server of the real archives of the nation. 
Whereas in ancient times government 
records were preserved on paper and 
parchment, in hieroglyphics and myster- 
ious signs, now we have the printed doc- 
uments which the poorest in the land can 

It was like a taste of home to see the 

great array of Miehle presses, like 
those we have in the National Magazine 
shop, pouring out the story of the na- 
tion. Here also maps were being printed, 
as well as books, pamphlets, bills, sta- 
tionery embossed and plain headings 
and everywhere were ideal conditions 
for employes. No wonder that when a 
position has been obtained here the 
worker is loth to leave. Even the roving 
disposition of the old-time journeyman 
printer is conquered when he gets into 
the government printing office. 


^ side Speaker 
Cannon is a 
smooth-faced man 
who has more to do 
with the legislation 
of the country than 
might be realized 
at first glance. This 
gentleman is Asher 
C. Hinds, who was 
appointed clerk at 
the speaker's table 
by Speaker Reed 
in 1895 and has re- 
mained in this po- 
sition ever since. 
In 1899 Mr. Hinds 
published "Parlia- 
mentary Precedents 
of the House cf 
which is constantly 

used as a book of reference in the house. 
He edits the "Manual and Digest of the 
House," published yearly, which is an 
edition of the rules of the house with ref- 
erence to the decisions of the speaker. 

Mr. Hinds is expected to relieve the 
speaker of certain duties which the rules 
place on him, such as referring public 
bills to the appropriate committees. The 
office of speaker necessarily brings with 
it a mass of detail and it has been found 
necessary to relieve him of a great deal 
of this. Many minor questions that come 




up regarding the law of the house are at- 
tended to by Mr. Hinds. When hard ques- 
tions arise the speaker looks to his clerk 
for instant information as to precedents 
and rules on which to base his decision. 
It is remarkable how accurate these rul- 
ings are, though often apparently made in 
haste. Sometimes the questions are 
simple, but often a query arises in 
the house which has not been heard for 
ten or fifteen years and is not familiar 

classify precedents of the house, a work 
which had hitherto been done only in 
fragmentary form. This information was 
hidden in hundreds of volumes and scat- 
tered over thousands of pages collected 
since the year 1789. After three years 
of research, and having gone over every 
document, Mr. Hinds embodied all this 
information in "Parliamentary Prece- 
dents." When members have in mind 
the raising of any point of order, they 

Beginning at the left: Ireland, Small, Gray, Cochrane, Welsh, Cameron and Lafferty 

even to the oldest member, the usual 
fountain - head of information. Mr. 
Hinds soon discovered that it was desir- 
able to have information at hand to give 
the speaker so that he might make prompt 
decisions and allow the ordinary business 
of the house to go on without delay; for 
where no precedent is available a debate 
and division of opinion will arise, which 
may consume days and yet leave the 
members dissatisfied. With this difficulty 
in view Mr. Hinds began to collect and 

often decide not to push their claims 
after precedent has been shown by the 
clerk. When a vital question is brought 
to the chair, the precedent is looked up 
and the speaker is enabled to make a 
decision after but a short delay. 

Mr. Hinds was born in Benton, Maine, 
in 1863, and graduated at Colby college, 
which has since conferred upon him the 
degree of LL. D. He entered the news- 
paper business in Portland before his ap- 
pointment as clerk to the speaker's table. 


IT is almost as interesting as watching 
a baseball game to see the official 
reporters 'of debates in the house of rep- 
resentatives at work. From the first 
Monday in December, 1905, to the end 
of March of 1906, between two and three 
jnillion words spoken on the floor of the 
house were transcribed by these six busy 
men. Compared with preceding sessions 
there has been nearly three times as 
much debate reported as during any 

reporters' system has been evolved from 
the experience of years, and the use of 
Craphophones has much to do with the 
high state of development in this line. 
This utility, combined with the use of 
the fountain pen and the system of relays 
employed in reporting and transcribing, 
has made the reporting in the house 
the most efficient and expeditious 
of any method used in any parlia- 
mentary body throughout the world. 

Photograph by Frances B. Johnston 

other similar period. The first session 
of the fifty-first congress has held the re- 
cord for the amount of reporting up to 
this time. 

This Niagara of oratory has been 
promptly transcribed, ready for the 
Record, within forty-five minutes after 
the house adjourned, but with three or 
four corrections made from the floor in 
all this number of words, and the errors 
pointed out were not stenographic. The 

To report verbatim a parliamentary 
gathering of three hundred and eighty- 
six members requires an intimate know- 
ledge of shorthand, combined with great 
swiftness of pen. The chamber is very 
large and the acoustics very poor, which 
obliges the reporter to stand almost the 
whole time and follow the speakers 
around. The moment a member rises 
to speak, the reporter must instantly 
write down his name, and to do this he 



must recall it at a single glance. As the 
stenographer stands in the maelstrom, 
the house in an uproar not unlike that of 
the stock exchange, he must remain cool 
and collected and be able to write at his 
topmost limit of shorthand speed. It 
requires long experience for a man to 
become accustomed to these peculiar con- 
ditions, and men possessing high speed 
in. court and other difficult positions have 
been known to "fall down" completely 
on the floor of the house, because they 
could not accustom themselves to condi- 
tions surrounding them, independent of 
the stenographic part of the work. This 
work is a "specialized" form of stenog- 
raphy, and once a reporter has mastered 
it, he can remain in the house for as 
many years as his mental and physical 
condition will permit. 

The speaker makes the appointments, 
and every member who has been 
any length of time in the house under- 
stands the excessive demand made upon 
the reporters and keenly appreciates the 
work of this effective coterie of six men 
of the pen. 

The congressional reporting is done 
by relays, working in regular order. 
Number one comes in for his first 
"take." He covers a certain number of 
leaves in his notebook with shorthand* 
characters, sufficient when transcribed 
to make a column of the Congressional 
Record, then he nods to number two. 
who proceeds for the same length of 
time, being followed by number three and 
so on, until number six, who is an assist- 
ant reporter, is reached. In this way 
each reporter takes the same amount of 
debate, and as soon as he is relieved he 
goes to the office and begins dictating 

to a graphophone until he has covered 
about one-third of a cylinder. This he 
gives to an, operator, who places it on 
another machine, adjusting the speed to 
his own work on his typewriter. By the 
time the reporter has finished his dicta- 
tion this first cylinder is written out 
ready for his inspection, and it often 
happens that he can revise his entire 
"take" before he is called to the house 
for his next turn. 

It is a busy scene in the reporters' 
room with four men dictating and the 
typewriters clicking at a high rate of 
speed all at one time. But underneath 
this apparent confusion is the utmost 
system and order, and copy is accurately 
prepared for that unique publication, the 
Congressional Record. Every bit of 
copy debate, parliamentary procedure 
and all-- is handled by this corps of 
reporters. There are some rapid speak- 
ers on the floor, but at the present time 
Charles E. Littlefield of Maine maintains 
the greatest speed for a long speech. At 
one time he spoke for four and one-half 
hours at an average speed of 196 words 
per minute. Then there is Lacey of 
Iowa, Russell of Texas, Lamar of 
Florida, Stephens of Texas and many 
others who are rapid speakers. 

Walking up and down and writing the 
words at the same time is a task which 
tries the reporters; but, once they become 
accustomed to it, they are able to accom- 
lish what was formerly regarded as im- 
possible, and seems now little short of a 
miracle. But the present corps are 
thoroughly competent and their perform- 
ance of the work makes this particular 
task the superlative feat of parliamentary 
reporting in the world. 

pP^^rjtf - , ,' ^^^^^^^^m .''_ ^^^^^^H 



By Myrtle Garrison 


ON the broad, low plain sloping up 
from the Bay of San Francisco to 
the foothills of the Sierra Moreno in the 
beautiful Santa Clara valley, are the 
ruins of the celebrated university 
erected by the late Senator and Mrs. 
Jane L. Stanford to the memory of their 
only son, Leland Stanford, Jr. 

This great university was noted the 
world over for its grandeur, beauty and 
graceful setting, and was the richest school 

in the world, having an endowment 
of thirty million dollars. The buildings 
were all of the old mission architecture, 
with wide colonnades and open courts, 
an outgrowth of the Moorish and Roman- 
esque. The university was founded in 
1885. The work of twenty years was de- 
molished and laid to the earth in 
three minutes by the great earthquake 
which rocked the whole west coast 
on the morning of April 18, 1906. 



The buildings formed an outer and 
an inner quadrangle, connected by 
continuous arcades and arches. To 
enter the inner quadrangle, one passed 
through the massive Memorial Arch, the 
largest in America and second largest in 
the world, the Arc de Triomphe in Paris 
being of a greater height. Passing 
through the Memorial Arch from the 
outer quadrangle to the inner one, one 
entered Memorial Court, a beautiful, 
paved enclosure of five hundred and 
twenty-eight feet by two hundred and 
forty-six. Memorial Court is now a 
mass of broken stone, in the center of 
which, standing like sentinels viewing 
the wreck 
around them, 
remains still 
the massive 
iron statues 
of Senator 
and Mrs. 
Stanford and 
their son Le- 

On the oth- 
er side of 
Court and di- 
rectly facing 
the Arch 
stood the 
Stanford Memorial Church. This church 
has been pronounced the most beautiful 
church building in America, and from an 
artistic viewpoint was considered su- 
perior to many of the noted cathedrals 
of Europe. The church was built in the 
shape of a cross, the entrance being the 
stem. The twelve-sided Gothic tower, 
the spire of which rose one hundred and 
ninety feet in the air, held high the 
Latin cross. Under the great dome 
were scenes from the life of Christ and 
from the church life of all ages. The 
tower was flanked upon the four corners 
by turrets containing twenty-four pic- 
torial windows. The facade was finished 
in Venetian mosaics, a large picture 


being shown on either side in beautiful 
landscape of rich coloring. In the rear 
of the church is the choir loft, and the 
manificent pipe organ still stands in soli- 
tary state amidst the ruins. 

Standing beneath the dome, one hun- 
dred and six feet above the pavement, 
one faced the lectern, and behind this 
the white marble altar and candelabra. 
The great allegorical windows are 
crushed to the earth, and nothing re- 
mains to tell of their beauty. Directly 
over the altar remains a few broken rem- 
nants of the famous picture in mosaics 
of "The Last Supper", taken from the 
original done by Cosino Roselli in the 

fifteenth cen- 
tury, the only 
copy ever per- 
mitted to be 
made of the 
famous work. 
The lower 
windows il- 
lustrated the 
life of Christ 
by modern 
painters. The 
"Rose Win- 
dow" in the 
nave, from 
H o 1 m a n 
one of the 
in Memorial 

"Christ Child", was 
most beautiful windows 
Church. It was made of glass gathered 
from all parts of the world by Mrs. Stan- 
ford during her years of foreign travel. 
The Stanford Library was still un- 
finished when the great crash came 
which completely wrecked it. The 
structure was one of the most distinctive 
buildings on the campus and cost nearly 
a million dollars. It was the aim of 
Mrs. Stanford to make it the most 
complete and extensive library in 
the West. The exterior, like that 
of the other buildings, was of buff 
sandstone, while the interior was to 
have been principally of white marble. 



The huge dome is all that now remains. 
None of the university buildings at- 
tracted more general attention than the 
Stanford Museum. Mrs. Stanford al- 
ways took a particular interest in it, and 
during her extensive travels abroad made 
many beautiful and valuable collections 
tor it. This building was as yet un- 
finished at the time of its destruction. 



tained the personal effects of Mrs. Stan- 
ford and mementoes of Senator Stan- 
ford, is intact, not the slightest injury be- 
ing done them, as is also the room con- 
taining the collections of Leland Stan- 
ford. Jr., made by him during his foreign 
travels when he was eleven years old. 
The only paintings which were not de- 
molished are the life-size portraits of 
Senator Stanford, Mrs. Stan- 
ford and Leland Stanford, 
Jr.; these remain unharmed 
among the ruins of the other 

The Stanford Gymnasium, 
which was completed but a 
few weeks before the earth- 
quake destroyed it, and 
which had never been open 
to the students for use, was 
one of the most perfectly 
equipped gymnasiums in the 
world. It was an imposing 
structure of stone and mar- 
ARCH ble. Around it grouped the 

The original building be- 
ing found too small, a large 
number of spacious rooms 
were being added to it, 
making it the largest mu- 
seum in the world. The 
Cenola collection was one 
of the most beautiful collec- 
tions in the museum; it 
contained five thousand 
pieces of Greek and Roman 
pottery and glass. The 
Egyptian antiquities were 
another interesting collec- 
tion, also the Chinese and 
Japanese ware, the Japan- 
ese collection being considered the finest 
and most valuable in America. There 
was also a valuable collection of carved 
wood, embroideries and laces. The art 
gallery contined five hundred beautiful 
paintings from both the old and modern 
painters, also some fine statuary and mo- 
saics. The Memorial room, which con- 


broad and spacious athletic fields for 
football and baseball. 

To the right of the "Quad" stood 
Encina Hall, the large dormitory for 
boys, and at the time of the earthquake 
it was sheltering three hundred students. 
It was one of the most completely demol- 
ished buildings on the campus, and here 



several lives were lost. Roble Hall, the 
dormitory for girls, was sheltering one 
hundred students. It was the least in- 
jured of the dormitories. 

The financial loss of the university, not 
only in its buildings and their contents, 
but also in other California properties 
from which much of its revenues were 

derived, amounts to many millions of dol- 
larsperhaps not less than ten millions 
in all; but President David Starr Jordan 
and the men who cooperate with him in 
carrying on the affairs of the school 
have not lost courage. The damage 
will be repaired and the work will 
be renewed as rapidly as possible. 


[From the New York American] 

THEY have shattered his lair with the earthquake, 

They have blistered his hide with flame, 
They have pierced his vitals with famine, 

But the grizzly still is game! 


[From the St. Louis Mirror] 

IN a letter from a San Francisco refugee in Los Angeles occurs this passage: "A 
woman rushed out of the Palace Hotel with nothing on but her night-robe, and 
that was torn from her in her mad rush through the crowd. A number of men 
formed a circle around her, with their backs turned toward her, while others went 
and secured her covering." Such an incident is alone enough to show that it 
takes more than an earthquake to shake the American from his stand four-square 
on the principles of gentle manliness. Such men make a city that can never be 



By William Marion Reedy 

Editor of the St, Louis Mirror 

William &A. a r i o n Reedy 

Photo by T. K a j i w a r a , St. Louis 

LI ERE is the portrait of the most brilliant American editor in our day. 
I Not the most original thinker, nor, perhaps, the ablest single-handed fighter 
Elbert Hubbard or Arthur Brisbane or Horace Traubel might match or beat him 
both ways but the most perfect master of written eloquence, whether of wit or 
humor or pathos or bare-fisted battle, among all the shackled servants cf the press. 
Charles Warren Stoddard's enchanted prose is, at its best, most beautiful and most 



certainly classic of all the occasional contributors to even the monthly magazines 
but Stoddard writes from sheltered nooks a monastery or a Brattle street mansion 
soothed with silken silence and comforted with fragrant flagons the while and 
he knows not hurry. 

I meant sometime to write an estimate of Reedy but his story of San 
Francisco fallen is far and away better, more illuminative as to the man himself, 
than anything I could ever have done, so I offer it here by way of introducing 
him to any our readers who may not already know and buy his admirable weekly 
journal, The Mirror, published in St. Louis. Frank Putnam 

'Frisco it was called in that affection 
which prompts expression in diminu- 

Shaken to shards in the dawn, gulped 
in part by a mad sea, swept by flame. 
Ruin covering agony, crowned by hun- 
ger, thirst, fever, pest. Death over all. 

Beautiful, soft 'Frisco, luscious as a 
great pear or a cluster of grapes. City 
of romance, splendor, strife, where the 
strange odors of the East come in to 
sweeten the winds of the West. 'Frisco, 
sleeky fair and, like the Pacific, as 
treacherous as fair. 

Town of wild, strange, tumultuous 
memories to one who never saw its 
streets or sensed its paradisal bay or felt 
the subtle, passionate stirring of its more 
than Italian, curiously blent quattrocento 
and ultra modern atmosphere. 

There gathered the seekers of the 
Golden Fleece to scatter their shearings, 
to gamble, carouse, steal, murder and 
build a mighty town. The village a hell 
and then the Vigilantes. Judge Lynch 
was its first law-giver more rigorous 
than Draco. 

Navvies turned Croesus came in and 
builded banks, their palaces rising in 
uncouth ostentation, setting up insane 
speculation, developing rivalries that 
flowered into duels and into remorseless 
combines to drive one man, thinking 
himself broken, into the sea. Names 
were heralded from there that meant gold 
in mountains. Flood, O'Brien, Mackay, 

Fair, Sharon and a score more. They 
leagued with or fought one another. 
They plundered one another and the 
public. They diedmost of them with 
a plenteousness of wives equal almost to 
that of their money. 

Business, politics, the law, all life was 
picturesque and blood color. Then out 
of the aureate din and dust came the 
constructives Stanford, Crocker, Hunt- 
ington, Sutro, taking mighty chances on 
building railroads across the continent, 
dazzling the world with their daring, 
buccaneering the plains, piercing the 
mountains and grabbing subsidies tthat 
made imperial domains look like kitchen 
gardens. Out of 'Frisco came the gam- 
bler Keene to teach lessons to Gould 
and Fisk and Daniel Drew, to break and 
be broken, to win and fail, and win and 
finally hold his own and much more 
against the most frenzied of frenzied 
financiers of a third of a century later. 

The daughters of rough-and-tumble 
bar -keepers and wrangling washer- 
women married the sons of princes 
whose lines ran back to the time of 
Michael Angelo and beyond. The 
woman of the camp queened it in Lon- 
don, and offered to buy the Arc de 
Triomphe in Paris because it obstructed 
her view of a parade. The grub-stake 
prospectors built palaces filled with the 
spoil of Italy on Fifth avenue. Their 
daughters set the pace for the Four 
Hundred. The contests over their wills 


by wives they forgot to mention clogged 
the courts. Supreme justices of the 
nation were assaulted by the champions 
of these wives, and the United States 
marshal slew Sara Althea Hill Terry's 
attorney husband to save a justice who 
had decided against her. 

There came from the sand lots the cry 
that "the Chinese must go." It stirred 
the country fiercely, was forgotten only 
to revive again thirty years and more 
later as a result of the war with Spain. 
. Out of golden 'Frisco came the raucous 
voice of Denis Kearney, an agitator to 
live in history with Wat Tyler and Jack 
Cade, to inspire the thinking of states- 
men who would not have wiped their 
feet upon him. Denis Kearney's mad, 
snarling, obscene mouthings are trans- 
lated today into profound, statesmanlike 
argument against the Yellow Peril. 

Stormy men and sudden wealth and 
growing cosmopolitanism with all the col- 
orful low life of a great port, the poetry of 
ships from strange seas, the babel of all 
earth's tongues, made the world forget 
the old mission times "before the Grin- 
gos came." 

Burst from 'Frisco the tender-tough 
singer of the "Heathen Chinee," the 
historian of "The Luck of Roaring 
Camp," the wildly luxuriant genius of 
Bret Harte. He gave us the West fixed 
forever, as Scott and Burns gave us Scot- 
land; Dumas, France; Cervantes, Spain. 

With the romance that headquarters in 
'Frisco, Mark Twain savored his message 
of fun to the world and developed his 
talent until he is today not perhaps, but 
undoubtedly, our chiefest man of letters, 
his gift immortalizing "Tom Sawyer" 
and "Huck Finn," classicizing "The 
Jumping Frog," vindicating "Ariel" 
Shelley and interpreting for us the sanc- 
tity of Joan of Arc. 

In 'Frisco Richard Realfe sang a few 
songs unforgettable, and, harrassed by 
misfortune, slunk away to die to the 
music of "De Mortuis Nil Nisi Bonum,' ' a 
poem ranking surely with "Thanatopsis.' ' 

And then a little man, poor, unknown, 
a printer, almost starving, meditating in 
this city of the Golden Gate on the prob- 
lem of the House of Have and the House 
of Need. This printer wrote a book. It 
set the economists by the ears. It chal- 
lenged the theologians. It shook Mam- 
men in his temple, the Pope on the 
throne of Peter. It made men realize 
the sense of brotherhood. It created a 
religion of the here and now, with a 
remedy for want, a curb on human greed. 
The book was "Progress and Poverty." 
The man was Henry George the great- 
est social scientist since Buckle, the pro- 
foundest economist since Adam Smith, 
the ultimate perfection of antithesis to 
Nicolo Machiavelli, 

In 'Frisco uprose the Argonaut, the 
country's greatest weekly newspaper. 
Its editor was another Voltaire Frank 
Pixley. His cry was "crush the in- 
famy" the Catholic Church and so 
splendid and multifariously expressive 
was his hatred that even the Catholics 
read it for its style. 

For 'Frisco had the aesthetic atmos- 
phere. It was another Florence. The 
urge to poetry was in its air. Today the 
author who came from 'Frisco is omni- 
present. Markham of "The Man With 
the Hoe" is claimed by Frisco. Frank 
Norris of "The Pit" flourished in that 
town of horrors and magnificences. Ger- 
trude Atherton first moralized there or 
thereabouts. Gelett Burgess here con- 
ceived "The Purple Cow," and then an 
odd little man named Doxey issued 
"The Lark," sui generis, an epoch-mak- 
ing publication that will live in history 
with Frazer's Magazine, with the Anti- 
Jacobin, with the Yellow Book. Am- 
brose Bierce, the most vitriolic of Ameri- 
can writers, there wrote tales that for 
terror in artistic imagination challenged 
the supremacy of Poe. The Overland 
Monthly was a 'Frisco enterprise that 
lives today. Joaquin Miller went red- 
shirted to London and told them in his 
"Songs of the Sierras" of what would 



come to be in the city that, "serene, in- 
different to fate," as Harte said, "sitteth 
at the Western Gate." 

In 'Frisco the greatest modern roman- 
ticist, Robert Louis Stevenson, hungered 
and wrote one line immortal "it was a 
clear, cold night of stars" in "The 
Silverado Squatters." In 'Frisco they 
erected the first monument to the creator 
of Prince Florizel of Bohemia, John Sil- 
ver, and the reincarnation of Francois 

Hundreds of our later stage's best act- 
ors come from Frisco, where the theater 
rose early and flourished exotically. 
Lotta came from 'Frisco and became our 
first ingenu. Its early stock companies 
vitalized our stage. 

In 'Frisco Kipling's manuscripts were 
turned down by editors, and he avenged 
himself somewhat on the town, though 
before he closed his depreciation he had 
to be little less than just to the place, if 
for no other reason than that had there 
been no Bret Harte and "The Luck of 
Roaring Camp" and "M'liss" and "Ten- 
nessee's Pardner," there had been no 
"Soldiers Three," perhaps no "Kim" 
and eke no "Recessional." 

In 'Frisco William Kieth had his 
studio Kieth, who has something of 
the mastery of dark color of Diaz 
Kieth, undoubtedly one of the greatest of 
American artists. Artists, poets, novel- 
ists, scientists, teachers lent the popula- 
tion a tone of devil-may-care. 

This town of less than half our popula- 
tion had more and better daily papers 
than St. Louis. It sent a boy to New 
York to challenge the supremacy of Pu- 
litzer journalism with les t aches jaunes, 
and to frighten Wall street with a red 
flag having just a touch of yellow, and to 
compel by sheer audacity attention to 
his intention to be president Mr. Wil- 
liam Randolph Hearst. 

'Frisco was world-wide known next to 
New York and Chicago, and now it has 
won the world's interest by a calamity 
rivaling that which was Chicago's first 

claim on fame. A*Frisco-built battle- 
ship, the Oregon, made a world- wonder- 
ing run around the Horn to Santiago 
and into the fight that broke Spain's 
power on this hemisphere forever. 

Frisco was loved by its citizens as no 
city is loved in this land, save, possibly, 
New York. It was a city that cared for 
the beautiful, that took to ideas. It had 
the only Bohemian Club in the world in 
which Bohemianism was fumigated of its 
disreputability, and stood for the true as 
distinct from the perverted tawdriness of 
Murger's "Vie de Boheme." It sup- 
ported at least four excellent weekly 
papers, the Argonaut, the News-Letter, 
Town Talk, James H. Barry's Star 
periodicals individual, high-class, cos- 
mopolitan. George Stirling wrote there 
the best book of verse of the last four 
years, ''The Testimony of the Suns," 
and from 'Frisco Jack London, with his 
gospel of beauty in brutality, captured 
men's imaginations and awoke in their 
hearts echoes of "The Call of the Wild" 
and the snarlings of "The Sea Wolf." 
The literary center of 'Frisco boasted of 
the finest book store in the country west 
of New York, and the output of Paul 
Elder & Company, publishers, was al- 
most a new revelation in some aspects of 
the art preservative. 

Life was lived in 'Frisco. It was a 
little of Paris, of Rome, of Florence, of 
Pekin. It was a town of temperament 
in which lightsomeness blent with a na- 
tive beauty sense. Winds of the sea 
came in and met with winds of the 
desert. The fog, mostly pearl-gray, but 
often sun-tinged to opaline, hung over 
the town and gave it rare values to the 
esuriently artistic eye. Naval officers 
brought there as wives the daughters of 
Ah Fong, Hawaii's Chinese millionaire. 
Sport flourished in all its forms, square 
and vertiginous. The climate made for 
love-making. The wines and fruits and 
flowers and the mysterious sea mists and 
the wonderful sunsets and the blend of 
odors of East and West made life a 



picture, a poem. The world turned to 
'Frisco and California as it turned in 
earlier ages to Rome and Florence and 
Italy. There the singer, the sculptor, 
the painter, the novelist, sought the sky 
and air that freshened heart and fecun- 
dated mind. It chained the sensitive of 
soul, and it invited the merely sensual 
lovers of luxury. Always and ever about 
one was the conjugating of the verb 
"enjoy" not always conjugally. 

It was opulent and of a mighty ori- 
ency of brightness, but with darkness to 
heighten the picture. Its slums were the 
most impenetrable "in all the lands of 
Christendie. " Its crimes surpassed in 
quality of shudder the crimes of other 
places. Its citizens gave to the city 
more gracefully than other citizens of 
other towns gave to them. An ignorant 
miner, Lick, gave the city a great miners' 
hotel, and to the state the world's finest 
observatory. It was gladdened with 
many fountains and parks. It was a 
city which the rich decorated and loved 
and inconceivably disgraced in the early 
orgies, but never wholly ruled. Its king 
was the head of a seamen's union, An- 
drew Furuseth, and union labor con- 
trolled its activities and elected a fiddler 
mayor twice in the face of all the inter- 
ests and wealth of the community. 

A strong sense of beauty somehow 
clung to the mental image of the town, 
even to one who, as I, had never seen 
the place. Its glamour always had a sort 
of hidden foreboding in it. There was 
ever the same suggestion of lethal malefic 
genius behind all the story that was told 
of its curiously morbide^a amorous- 
ness of the day, and its childlike desire 
to forget the night. It was too fair, as it 
sometimes seemed, and in the glory in 
which it lay, and in which it lingered in 
thought, there seemed something of a 
light that held pale tone of bale back of 
all its bliss. Its people loved it with that 
intensity with which we love what we 
are like to lose. 

There were a great gap in the history 

of American life, letters and character 
and achievement with 'Frisco's story 

There ran through and beneath the 
town many a little tremor that the town 
personified might have superstitiously 
interpreted as does the individual the 
slight shudder as he talks with a friend 
someone walks or dances over my grave. 
But the gongs and mad fiddles kept 
going in Chinatown, and the orchestras 
in the multitudinous, gorgeous, risque 
restaurants never ceased a strain, and 
the women walked with an added lure 
in their motions and a deeper softness 
in their eyes, and, as in the old fable, 
Love and Soul blent to make the climax 
of Pleasure, and the town was rapt in a 
voluptous, semi-oriental autolatry, and 

Then the earthquake came. And 
flood. And fire. And death in his most 
fantastic disguise burst in on the dream 
that came through the ivory gate of 
dawn. The passional city learned to 
pray. Suffering paid in a flash for each 
pulse of joy. 

But the men of the city met in their 
ruined forum and said: "The city shall 
rise again more beautiful than before." 
The hungry, the tatterdemalion crowd, 
shelterless, wan, haggard, smoke-grimed, 
joked the soldiers over their dole of 
bread and water. The women rallied 
each other on their bizarre, bisexual 
garniture. Life had been pleasure. 
Ruin was fun. Death well to have 
died in the fall of 'Frisco was something 
like coming home from battle on the 
Spartan shield. 

Will 'Frisco stay fallen? No. A new 
Frisco shall uprear itself and laugh at 
the sea, and when old Atlas again shifts 
the globe a little on his shoulders it will 
laugh and dance and fight and drink and 
make love as before, and be proud that 
among its other claims to greatness is 
that of having met and conquered a 
calamity that stilled and chilled the 
whole world's heart for a day. 

Before the crash and flame 'Frisco was 



beginning to protest at being called any- 
thing but San Francisco. Yet 'Frisco 
clung; it held some winking, sly hint of 
frisky. Even the great black headlines 
over the evil news used the diminutive 
abbreviation like a touch of light in the 
cloud, a sort of fresh, smiling rose on 
the pall, speaking of resurrection. The 
foundations of the city went wobbling at 
the end of the Easter feast almost. 
'Twas and 'tis an omen. 

'Frisco fallen shall flower again from 
disaster and desolation and death, and 
it shall realize the dreams not only of 
those who have vowed their dreams shall 
not be defeated, but the unfulfilled am- 
bitions of those lovers of the city who 
went down in the ruin to the realm where 
is not light, nor laughter nor song nor 
weeping nor dreaming more. 

It will be a great city, for it is a 
great city even today, though never rose 
again one stone of it upon another. It 

has given, it still gives us the joy of life, 
the throb of passionate story, the sense 
of love of beauty in all forms, the thrill 
of an unparalleled catastrophe, the in- 
spiration of indomitable cheerfulness 
before the most implacable fate. There's 
something in it of the spacious older 
world, and yet something, too, that is 
unforgettably American in its people's 
recovery to a mood of readiness, as the 
poet said, "to match with Destiny for 

yale et Ave 'Frisco the beautiful, the 
glad, the strong, the stricken, the invin- 
cible. Down with her went our hearts. 
Up with her will go our souls. The 
country's hope and faith and love are 
more fixed than the shuddering earth, 
and all these are in the tear-brightened 
eyes of 'Frisco looking out from 
the wreck over the Pacific where 
lies the future big with mighty 
fates for her beyond all prophecy. 




UERE in this empty page end let me call attention to a notable, a desirable, new book 
' by an eminent San Franciscan "A Levantine Log-Book" by Jerome Hart, editor of the 
Argonaut. Pictorial, political, historical everywhere and always humanly appealing, with 
a lively play of brisk American humor the volume realizes the ideal of a good book of 
travel- by both entertaining and instructing. Anyone who knows the Argonaut knows that 
if Mr. Hart could write a dull page he could not be the editor of San Francisco's celebrated 
periodical. The only occasions when I have ever had occasion to doubt his omniscience 
were those on which he failed to agree with me concerning the merits of certain little 
privately printed verse pamphlets submitted for his critical consideration. But let us return to 
his book: if you wish to make the tour of the strange lands lying around the Mediterranean 
( sitting on a shady verandah the while ) never shall you have opportunity to do the trip in 
pleasanter company than that which you can find in "A Levantine Log-Bovk" Like Mr. 
Hart's earlier books of travel, ''Argonaut Letters" and "Two Argonauts in Spain" this volume 
is published by Longmans, Green Co., New York and London. F. P. 



THE Pan- 
Conference will 
take place in 
the city of Rio 
de Janeiro dur- 
ing this coming 
month of July, and 
the United States will 
be represented there by 
the secretary of state in 
especial recognition of the 
progress and stability of 
the republic of Bra- 
zil; a "Present arms!" as 
it were, accorded. Re- 
cently, with all the world's 
vision concentrated too 
exclusively on Japan, 
this other country, quite 
phenomenal in point of 
political progress, of in- 
dustrial and commercial 
development; next neighbor to us; allied 
in peoples, languages, customs and reli- 
gion, has been swimming into ken, all 
but overlooked ; Brazil, Estados Unidos 
do Brazil, the new republic of South 
America seventeen years old November 

No longer to us solely a stupendous 

physical fact on 
the face of the 
globe, stretching 
through many 
zones, almost 
half a portion of 
a continent ; a 
far, vast reach of 
lowland and forest, 
plateau, plain and 
prairie; highland and 
mountain chain and peak; 
valley and wonder-river; city, 
town, village and mining 
camp the whole rich and mystic 
with gold and heavy tropic sense, 
magic tree and flower and biid, 
dream of Spanish romance, laugh 
of leaping adventure! faery sav- 
age and beautiful, all this is at 
last married to a staid, practical 
and stable government ; sober 
level-headed and wise; the very 
to breed out of her the best 
and guide her to worthy and honorable 
place among the nations. 

From abaft that mighty and majestic 
line of seaboard, no more dormant, sleep- 
ing, feverish with revolutions ever im- 
pending, she has at length fully awak- 
ened, armed, entered the race with spirit 




and hand to maintain her status third 
among the world's great powers, in some- 
thing more than mere size and rich 

A Blend of Many Peoples 
As in this country, so there is in 
Brazil the same fusion of races and of 
nationalities; Italians, Portuguese, Span- 
ish, Germans, Austrians, Scandinavians, 
Poles, Russians, English and French, 
of whom the predominating race, insofar 
as numbers are concerned, is the Italian. 
There are nearly four times as many Ital- 

ians as Portuguese in Brazil, notwith- 
standing the fact that the country was for 
so many centuries a Portuguese colony, 
then a Brazilian empire, and now a 
Brazilian republic with the Portuguese 
tongue the official language, and man- 
ners and customs, and leading families 
today harking back to the mother land 
of Portugal, as America to England. 

The African, and particularly the na- 
tive Indian element, once so in the as- 
cendant in certain portions of the coun- 
try, a veritable flood devastating the 
colonies is, at ebb now, the native 


LEFT TO RIGHT, SEATED: Dr. Edmond T. James, President of the University of Illinois; Win. J. 
Buchanan, director-general of the Pan-American Exposition, chairman; Frederico Degatau, 
Porto Rican delegate to the American congress. 

LEFT TO RIT.HT, STANDING: Charles R. Dean, state department; James S. Harlan of Chicago 
and Dr. L. Rowe of the University of Pennsylvania. 


scarcely surviving indeed, being cleared 
out by the ever-freshening current of 
the new and stronger racial waters that 
sweep across the land. Latin and 
Anglo-Saxon and Slav and Teuton and 
Norse, they have met. and commingled 
there as here. In a few generations 
the term "Brazilian" will mean as 
heterogeneous a quantity as the word 
"American," with the one difference: 
significance of Portugal, not England, 
attached at root. 

The matter of this tremendous foreign 
influx and influence ; 
the state of Brazil's 
modern govern- 
ment; a summary of 
that accomplished 
during the adminis- 
tration of ex-Presi- 
dent Campos-Salles 
and President Alves 
today ; the person- 
nel of the Brazilian 
cabinet; the leading 
statesmen; the ad- 
vance in education, 
literature and fine 
arts ; immigration, 
colonization and 
commerce ; the pre- 
dominating indus- 
tries of Brazil; her 
industrial, labor and 
financial conditions; 
all matters of essen- 
tial and growing interest to the world and 
especially to this country, were set forth 
concisely and vividly in several recent 
interviews for the National Magazine 
with the Brazilian ambassador, Mr. 
Joaquim Nabuco, the first fully accredited 
ambassador of the United States of 
Brazil to this country. 

Her Distinguished Ambassador 

First, a word concerning Mr. Nabuco 

himself and the members of the embassy: 

Mr. Sylvino do Amaral, first secretary; 

Mr. E. L. Chermont and Mr. A. de 

Velloso, second secretaries; Lieutenant- 
Colonel Achilles de Pederneiras, military 

Mr. Nabuco is one of the leading pub- 
lic men of Brazil. Asa brilliant diplomat, 
as writer and historian, he is recognized 
everywhere, while in his own country he 
takes high rank as statesman, patriot and 
orator. He is now in his fifty-sixth year, 
in appearance distinguished, tall, erect, 
commanding. His hair and moustache are 
white, his eyes a piercing dark, his fore- 
head broad and high, his nose aquiline, 
an eagle-like sense 
about his face, keen, 
rather splendid. He 
has a gracious 
courtesy of manner 
and a kindly, demo- 
cratic way about 
him that make him 
much beloved by 
his intimate asso- 
ciates. He is a de- 
vout Catholic and 
devoted to his home 
and family. 

He has had a most 
active and interest- 
ing career and just 
now is in the very 
prime of his use- 
fulness to his coun- 
try. He comes out 
of Per n amb uco, 
that ancient prov- 
ince of Brazil to whose troops are given 
in all Brazilian history the name of 
"Lions of the North;" that today most 
important state of the northern country 
and celebrated for centuries as the 
seat of culture, enlightenment, sound 
government and progressive movement; 
the stronghold of patriotism, being indeed 
head and heart to old Brazil, and, it 
appears, supplying the young republic 
with men of mettle, as Virginia and Mas- 
sachusetts in our early days. Beside 
Joaquim Nabuco, the former vice-presi- 
dent of Brazil, Rosa E. Silva, two other 




members of the federal cabinet and the 
acting minister of justice, Epitacio 
Pessoa, all hail from Pernambuco. Mr. 
Nabuco was graduated in law from the 
college of Dom Pedro II and at once 
entered political life as deputy from Per- 
nambuco, soon after going into the dip- 
lomatic service, his first appointment 
being as an attache to the Brazilian lega- 
tion in Washington in 1875. Upon hjs 
return to Brazil, he took up actively the 
cause of abolition of slavery, becoming 
leader of that movement. It was then 
that he made his reputation in the 
Brazilian parliament as a great orator, 
the greatest under the empire. He 
gained a strong position, became known 
as one of intense, unswerving loyalty to 
his government, a man of sound, just 
views and brilliant attainments in scholar- 
ship, statesmanship and literary work. 
He was, above all, conservative, no ad- 
vocate for change of government, or 

At the fall of the empire in 1889, 
Mr. Nabuco retired from public 
life. For a few years he devoted 
himself to writing, completed his 
constitutional history of Brazil dur- 
ing the second Brazilian empire, 
three volumes, " Urn Estttdista do 
Imperio," and a history of the political 
struggles of the president of Chili who 
committed suicide, "Baltnaceda," A few 
of his other books there are some 
eighteen or twenty in all are "Camoes," 
a literary study of the great Portuguese 
poet; "Minha Formacao," a form of 
autobiography, and many other literary, 
historical and descriptive studies. While 
the republic was passing through its in- 
augural struggle, this "lion of the north" 
remained withdrawn and apart. 

It was not easy for Nabuco to change 
his political nature, to wheel around 
from his royalist and conservative views, 
especially when there was daily portent 
ol coming earthquake. 

At length, however, with the election 
of Campos-Salles as president, in 1898, 

the outlook for the republic became free 
from whirlwind. The government was 
placed on a stable and permanent foun- 
dation. Appeal after appeal was made 
to Joaquim Nabuco to return once more 
to the service of Brazil. He respond- 
ed and his entrance again into the official 
lifeof the nation was hailed by Campos- 
Salles as one of the signal achievements 
of his administration, one of the greatest 
triumphs of the republic, and everywhere 
Nabuco received greeting warm and 
glad and proud. He was at once delegat- 
ed upon the important mission of set- 
tling the boundary question between Brit- 
ish Guiana and Brazil, which was arbitrat- 
ted by the king of Italy. Mr. Nabuco then 
remained in England as Brazilian minis- 
ter to the court of St. James, until the ex- 
change of embassies took place between 
Brazil and the United States, when he 
was appointed ambassador, the highest 
diplomatic position to be conferred by 

The first secretary of this embassy, Mr. 
Sylvino do Amaral, has also had a most 
active diplomatic career in the service 
of Brazil. His first appointment was as 
second secretary to the Brazilian lega- 
tion in Russia in 1895. Since then he 
has served successively in Spain, Uru- 
guay and England in the same capacity; 
was promoted first secretary of the lega- 
tion to the Argentine Republic and last 
Fall advanced to the embassy in Wash- 
ington, D. C. He has written a book 
on the life and diplomatic career of 
Hugo de Groot, the founder of interna- 
tional law. It was published in Paris in 
1903. His native town is Fortaleza, the 
capital of the state of Ceara. His 
father held a high position for many 
years as deputy from Ceara and as a po- 
litical writer. Mr. do Amaral studied in 
Rio de Janeiro, and it was direct from 
academy that he entered the diplomatic 
service. He is a young man of striking 
personality, very much of a student, a 
connoisseur in art, music and letters, an 
indefatigable worker, patriotic, capable, 



enthusiastic, ambitious, a thoroughly 
charming man, gifted, clever, poetic, 
interesting, quick grace and flashing 
spark of the Latin there. And he is 
genuinely devoted to Mr. Nabuco. 

Taken altogether, the diplomatic ser- 
vice of Brazil is a most efficient arm of 
the government, its chief representatives 
being men of the highest culture and 
mental equipment and members of the 
best families. The service was organ- 
ized in 1852 on European lines, and 
there are now twenty-four legations per- 
manently established throughout the 
South American countries, Europe, Asia, 
Japan, United States and Mexico. 

There have been many changes and 
improvements in recent years and the 
embassy in Washington is far superior 
to any of the Brazilian legations in for- 
mer times. 

Madame Nabuco is a woman of great 
dignity of character and of bearing. 
Very hospitable, cordial and interesting, 
she has become one of the most popular 
ladies of the diplomatic corps in Wash- 
ington. Madame do Amaral, the wife of 
the first secretary of the embassy, is also 
very popular socially, and is one of the 
beauties of the circh of these gracious 
southern women. She is tall, graceful, 
vivacious and very pretty and charming. 
In fact all of the ladies of the Brazilian 
embassy, by reason of their culture, 
beauty and grace, add much to the eclat 
and the social success of the republic 

Builders of the Republic 

"There never has been such an era of 
development and improvement in every 
line as there is today in Brazil," said 
the first secretary. "The progress is 
even extraordinary. It was, to begin 
with, the exc